The 100th Hunger Games: The 4th Quarter Quell
by Ocean455
Summary: This year is a special one: the 100th hunger games! Following an accident in the capitol, in an attempt to unite the districts of Panem, President Road formulates the perfect twist for a quarter quell: Each tribute is partnered with a tribute from a different district. They're internally linked so when one tribute dies, within 24 hours their partner dies as well. Please tune in.
1. The 100th Hunger Games

**Dalia Diamons Pov-**

The victor of the 99th hunger games died last week. He was murdered. The father of one of the tributes killed in last years games did it. I don't know why it took him until right before this years reapings to finally kill the victor. Mom says the father's a psycho. My dad says he's just a man who watched his kid murdered who, quite understandably, didn't know how to deal with it and he's surprised it hasn't happened more often.

I don't really know what I think.

Anyway, the president had the father killed the day after he was captured. So, it doesn't really matter what I think. I guess I don't really care that much. I mean, none of this really affects me all that much. Maybe it's because I'm a capitol kid and I don't have to deal with the games first hand. I just watch it all on television.

Today is the first time the president will speak since the incident happened. It's also the day the whole of Panem finds out what the twist for the 4th quarter quell will be. I will be going this year with my dad to see him speak.

By the time we arrive, the square is already filled with people, smiling and giggling. Dad buys me a t-shirt that says 'The 100th Hunger Games' in neon colors.

President Road has one of the coolest walks I've ever seen. He walks so slowly, yet easily that he appears to glide. And his spine remains strait, his neck unmoving. I gape as he makes his way to the podium on stage, excited roars hurdling from the audience.

Once he places his hands on the podium, he just stares out at the capitol. His gaze swipes across the various faces in the crowd. I watch the screen, which shows a close up of his dark brown eyes, sagging almost down to the sides of his nose. He opens his mouth to speak.

"We are one. We are Panem. And what happened last week shows me how pitted against each other we have become." The whistles from the audience turn to silence. Even the smiles seem to quiet down to blank facades. "Some of you districts blame this on the games. But, the games is an attempt to show you how you must make sacrifices for our nation. Don't blame the capitol. Don't blame your neighboring districts. Remember- you brought this on yourselves." He takes a deep breath, allowing himself a moment to look down at the podium. "So…this year for the 4th quarter quell we are having each tribute partnered with a tribute from another district. The two will be connected, so that if one dies, the other shall die soon after."

He starts to turn away from the podium, but twists his front back around, an almost childish spark shining from his face. "Lets see how the districts of Panem can work together."

**Welcome to the 100th hunger games! Here is a list of the tributes that will be in the games:  
**

**The Final Tribute List!  
**

**District 1:  
**

**Male: Colton Orsel (16)  
**

**Female: ****Sparkle Uccello (17)**

**District 2:  
**

**Male: Jared Lynxx (17)  
**

******Female: Brynn Carson (16)**  


******District 3:**

**Male: ****Skip Ryden (18)**

**********Female: Arianne Pixel (16)**  


**District 4:**

**Male: Tommy Scott (17)  
**

******Female: Janette McKinley (16)**  


******District 5:**

**Male: Talen Morton (15)  
**

**********Female: Sophie Merita (13)**  


**District 6:**

**Male: Anderson Piely (13)  
**

******Female: Hadley Paxton (15)**  


******District 7:**

**Male: Joey Morel (16)  
**

**********Female: Clara Kinking (16)**  


**District 8:**

**Male: Todd Brown (12)  
**

******Female: Kat Callaghan (15)**  


******District 9:**

**Male: Mikey Jonah (15)  
**

**********Female: Clarity May (17)**  


**District 10:**

**Male: Friesian Wade (14)  
**

******Female: Halley Morris (15)**  


******District 11:**

**Male: Falcon Dide (18)  
**

**********Female: Riley Kramer (17)**  


**District 12:**

**Male: Hunter Night (15)  
**

**********Female: Kasey Spalik (16)**


	2. District 1 Reapings

**Sparkle Uccello (17) Pov-**

"I have been dreaming of this day since you were born. Since I saw the fighter in your eyes." Dad wraps his arms around me. "And after today you're on your way to becoming victor."

I know that my dad loves me. He never has a hard time showing affection. It's just that sometimes I wish Dad and everyone would see me as a normal girl, not a fighter, not a future victor.

"I've been dreaming, too." I refrain from mentioning what it is I've been lusting for all these years. Because it's not what my family has been imagining.

My little brother, Manus, is the only one who looks the littlest bit uneasy. He smiles when I look at him, but I catch his hazel eyes mulling me over with apprehension. Unlike his two younger brothers, he doesn't keep asking me questions about what I'm going to do once I get back.

It's not that I hate the games. They're pretty interesting sometimes and I like training for them. I can tell I'm really good. My trainer says I'm showing the biggest competition this year out of all the girls. And I know I can take the pressure.

I push any doubts out of my mind as I go to check in. When I was younger I used to hate the reapings- I hated having to get my finger pricked and since no one I really knew ever volunteered, the reapings were pretty boring.

I wipe the remaining blood from my finger on my leg, and head over to my section. A bunch of my friends immediately surround me. They know I'm volunteering. And they're all just as excited as my parents.

"So, are you thrilled about the partner thing? Who knows, maybe you'll be paired up with a hottie from another district." Star wiggles her eyebrows. I just let out a long sigh, and shake my head.

"The hunger games is not for romance, despite all the idiots that have gone ahead and fallen in love. None of them ever end up happy. You guys know that."

"Whatever, Spark. I'm just so excited for you!" She gives me a quick hug. "And remember as soon as you volunteer run for the stage. I mean, everyone knows you're volunteering, but there's always a chance Rachel Hansel will decide to volunteer."

"But, we'll trip anyone that we can." Jessica adds.

"Thanks?" I raise a brow.

"Come on, you know we got your back. And we just want the best for you."

* * *

**Colton Orsel (16) Pov-**

Amber Stone likes to kiss. But, not the normal of kissing, the kind where she kind of tries to pull off your face with her lips.

"I think we have to get to the reapings." I choke out.

"10 more minutes." She shoves her perfect, red, glossy lips against mine, jamming my head back onto the hard bricks of the justice building.

"Wait…" I pull away.

"What?" She appears mildly annoyed for a moment, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

"I've been thinking…"

"What have you been thinking, Colton?" She traces her fingers across my cheek, a flirty smirk on her breath.

"Maybe we should break up."

Her hand drops. She looks more than a little peeved.

"Excuse me?"

"I just…you know I'm thinking of volunteering and…well…I wouldn't want you to…you know."

"Well, you know what? _I_ think we should break up!" Her voice pierces through the spring air, and she turns sharply on her heel, hurrying down the street.

"Wait…but…I just broke up with you!" I shout after her.

A couple of twelve-year-olds walk by at this moment. One of them laughs, and tells his friends, "That's what they all say."

I roll my eyes, shoving my hands in my pockets and following the twelve-year-olds to the reapings. I think they think I'm following them because I'm angry and I'm going to try and beat them up or something, because they all get a really nervous quiet, and one of them sprints into a backstreet out of nowhere.

"Hey, Colton!" Tyler waves over to me after I check in. I join him in the section for sixteen-year-olds. "You were with Amber, right?" He raises a brow, smirking.

"Yeah. But I broke up with her."

"What?" Tyler shouts, making a boy behind him jump. "People don't just break up with Amber stone! Man, I don't know what you were thinking. That girl is a goddess." A few guys around us grumble in agreement. "You will never meet a girl as beautiful as her…and I mean _ever_."

"Yeah well, looks aren't everything, okay?"

"But they are a decent part of everything."

"She just…I don't really like her. I never really liked her that much."

"You _told_ her that?"

"No. I told her it was because I was volunteering."

He shakes his head. "Well, you better hope you get to the stage before anyone else, because if she sees you at school on Monday…well, let's just say you're a dead man."

"Don't worry. I'm going to be the first up there." I assure Tyler. That's why I'm volunteering at sixteen. I'm already smart enough, and although I'm not as big as some of the monsters that volunteer, I'm certainly fit and anyway, the sixteen-year-olds section is closer to the stage.

"Welcome district 1!" Pilar Missy, district 1's escort, puts her hands above her head and claps. There are cheers and whistles from the crowd. She goes over the rules for this year's quarter quell, before exclaiming, "Let's get down to business!"

She goes to pick a girl first. "Olivia Martone!"

This year there are only three girls that volunteer. A random girl who's just watching trips one and with the other two it's close. Though, in the last second the bigger of the two goes to shove the other one out of the way and ends up shoving the air, and thus falling over.

The girl that steps onto stage looks confident. She seems fit enough for a career. Not tall but not short. Her wavy light brown hair runs down her back, as she smiles out at her district.

"And what's your name, honey?"

"Sparkle Uccello."

* * *

**Sparkle Uccello (17) Pov-**

"Well, Sparkle, congratulations! You are the lucky girl who will represent district 1 in the 100th hunger games!" The crowd howls, and I grin, allowing a little laugh to tumble from my lips.

"Now, let's find our lucky boy, shall we?" Pilar fishes around for the small slip of paper, letting the anticipation draw out. "Now…I would like to welcome up to the stage…Ivan Hallows."

There is a chorus of 'I volunteer!" followed by a bunch of guys slamming each other out of the way. These two particularly vicious eighteen-year-olds are having an epic fight that distracts most of the crowd. No one seems to notice the boy slip by from the sixteen-year-olds section, and saunter onto stage.

Once the eighteen-year-olds get a look at him, they both start cursing. "Who does this kid think he is? He's not even a man yet!"

But, the rest of district 1 seems pleased. Pilar looks overjoyed at the boy.

"Can you give me a name?"

"Colton Orsel." He runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair, and flashes the cameras a winning smile. He definitely has the whole good-looking thing going for him, so he should get a good number of sponsors. Maybe I'll ally up with him. It all depends on who his partner is.

"Shake hands, then." Pilar nudges me. I take a few steps towards Colton. He brings his deep blue eyes to look at me as he grasps my hand.

"Good luck, yeah?" His lips hardly move as he whispers. Almost like he doesn't want anyone else to hear his words.

I wait until he looks back out at the audience, appearing absolutely delighted, to offer back "You too".

* * *

My dad runs into the justice building laughing. Mom throws her arms around me, exclaiming that her daughter is going to be victor and she doesn't think she has ever been this happy. My little sister, Amanda, fauns over how much fun it will be to watch the games while I'm in them.

Manus doesn't say anything. He just stares at his pants, as though there's something transfixing sewed onto them. I think I see tears in his eyes.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm going to be okay." I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about Manus, Spark. He's just happy. We're all so happy for you." Dad claps Manus hard on the back. My little brother looks up at me. A dubious smile flickers on his lips.

"Yeah. I'm just happy for you."

* * *

**Colton Orsel (16) Pov- **

Tyler struts in, repeating the word "Awesome" until he's standing across from me. He clamps his hands together and points at me. "You better not screw this up, now."

"Yeah. Well aware I shouldn't be screwing up."

"Good. Then I'm glad to see we're on the same page." He clears his throat quickly before punching me in the shoulder, which I take to be an attempted pat on the back. "You'll do great. I'll see you in a few weeks, then."

"You can bet on it."

As soon as he leaves, my parents hurry in.

"Well, now you have to win." Dad doesn't look as happy as I was hoping. I know Mom had urged me to wait until I was older, but Dad always seemed to take my side.

"You know I can do this. I wouldn't have volunteered if I couldn't."

"I know you can. I'm just saying you have to."

"Okay." I don't look at either of them. I feel Mom's gentle arms wrap around me.

"I love you so much, Colton." She murmurs.

"I love you, too."

"Your father and I believe in you. We know how smart and strong you are. And in the next few weeks, things are going to get hard. They're going to get scarier and crueler than anything you've ever faced. And you just have to remember how strong you are."

* * *

**So, there are the district 1 tributes! What did you guys think? Please review!**


	3. District 2 Reapings

**Brynn Carson (16) Pov-**

My dad doesn't really know anything about style. He compliments me whether I'm wearing a pair of sweats or a trendy dress. I have to get help from Ariel, if I want someone to honestly tell my how I look.

I pack some possible reaping outfits into my bag and head over to Ariel's early. She always helps me look my best.

As I hurry the two blocks to her house, I can't help feeling a pang of remorse that I can't just have a mother do all the easy stuff for me. She could fix the tag sticking out of my shirt before I leave the house. I have a biological mother who's still alive. But, she never comes to see me anymore. She has another family now, and two beautiful children she acts like would never leave. Though, I bet she would if she found a man more appealing than her current husband. Just because I sometimes want a mother doesn't mean I want _her._

Preston answers the door. He smiles at me, glancing down at my old jeans and sweater.

"Nice reaping outfit." He smirks.

I roll my eyes, walking past him, and upstairs to Ariel's room. I spend a lot of my time over at their house, since Ariel and her twin, Preston, are my best friends.

"Oh, Brynn! You're here!" Ariel waltzes over to the door to give me a big hug. She's already in a short blue dress, looking stunning as usual. She dumps all my reaping clothes out of my bag and onto her bed. She immediately grabs a red dress. "Ooh you have to do this one."

"Really? I mean it's a little short."

"Oh, _please_. If you wear this one I swear Reese is going to just about die."

I grab the dress from her, and turn around, attempting to conceal the blush that has come to my cheeks. Ariel is the only person who knows about my crush on Reese. She's also the only person in the world who knows about my training. I haven't even told my dad I train for the games.

It's not that I plan on volunteering. It's just I don't see the problem with training. It's healthy exercise, anyway. And I'm good at it.

I slip into the dress, and let Ariel style my hair.

"I've always wished I had naturally curly hair." Ariel whispers, pulling one of my curls. It's funny how that happens- those with curly hair want straight hair and those with straight long for curly.

Once she finishes, I thank her, stuffing everything back in my bag.

"Why don't you leave that here? After the reapings you can pick it up."

"Okay." I follow her downstairs, and outside.

Preston is sitting on the front steps, talking with Reese about something. Both are dressed up like they're going to prom, and both don't look so thrilled about it, either.

"You guys ready to head over?" Ariel asks.

"Yeah. Took you two long enough." Preston jumps up, and gapes at me. "Wow, you look hot." He grins. For most people a compliment from Preston would cause them to either giggle like an idiot or turn as red as a tomato. But, I know that he means it as a friend.

"Yeah...you look really nice." Reese mutters. This time I can't help my complexion turning a little closer to the hue of my dress.

We start on our way to the main square. I walk next to Reese. Every now and then his hand will brush against mine.

"So, after the reapings…I was thinking." He starts, and then swallows thickly, running a hand through his brown hair.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking maybe you and I could…um…"

At this moment Preston runs over to Reese, and grabs him by the wrist.

"Come quick! There are two twelve-year-olds fighting. It's hilarious. You can't miss it!"

Reese glances at me, as he is pulled away. Ariel lets out a heavy sigh, as we wait on line to check in.

"Boys." She shakes her head. "It's so stupid that they find fighting interesting."

I shrug. "Not that weird when you realize it's what brings Panem together."

**Jared Lynxx (17) Pov-**

I wake up before the sun. Since it's my last day of practice, I know I have to spend as much time as possible training.

It's not until the sky outside has grown to a light blue glow and the voices of the other kids training fill the room, that one of my trainers pops up behind me, poking a wooden spear into my back.

"You're looking good. I would just work on keeping the eyes at the back of your head open."

"Right." I purse my lips together.

"Here; practice with me." He grabs a wooden sword from the bin behind me. It only takes me a few seconds to find his throat. "Nice." We start again, and this time he starts at my chest. I duck, cutting through to his leg, and then jabbing the wood into his stomach. "Hey…easy there. These aren't made of foam." He winces. I immediately retract. He chuckles. "You know, I'm not lying when I tell you that there are very few people I've ever trained that have as much talent as you."

"Thanks."

"I'm afraid it's time to go. You'll be able to practice again when training happens with the other tributes. But, you _really_ don't want to miss the reapings."

I drop the wooden sword, and hurry out of the training center, only for a moment wondering if I might miss this place. It has become my home. Since my parents are both dead, it was either living in the orphanage or the training center. They've been dead for a while, though. So, I've grown used to it. Or, as used to it as one can get.

* * *

Ariette Amalie has hair a bit too yellow for my taste. She's a bit too animated for my liking. And she stands with her butt jutted out too far for anyone to be at ease.

I wait, with my hands shoved deep into my pockets. Ariette picks out a girl's name.

"Ariel Jener!"

"I volunteer!" A rather tiny girl, in a short red dress steps forward. She has a sulky look plastered across her face as she glances at the girl next to her.

"Yes! Well, come on up to stage!" Ariette calls out to the girl, who shuffles up to stage. Once she gets up there she doesn't look so morose. Instead, she smiles, and stretches her lean body so she doesn't look so small. And although she doesn't look incredibly intimidating, she looks _very_ confident.

**Brynn Carson (16) Pov-**

"Can you tell us your name?" Ariette shoves the microphone in my face.

"Brynn Carson." I force a grin.

"Well, Brynn, are you excited?"

"Very." I lie, allowing my gaze to fall on Ariel for a moment. She's already started crying.

"I think it's time to find a boy, huh?" Ariette waits for the crowd to cheer her on. She grabs a small piece of paper, "Jet Haver!"

As usual a couple guys volunteer. But, only one manages to sprint to stage. As he stands next to me, I can't help but feel like a dwarf. I've always been one of the shorter ones standing only at five feet, but this guy would tower over most people. I can tell he's very muscular, and his broad shoulders look to be somewhere near twice as large as mine.

"What's your name?"

"Jared Lynxx." He doesn't smile. He just answers Ariette, remaining completely polite, but certainly not warm in any way.

"Well, congratulations, to the district 2 tributes of the 100th hunger games!" Ariette sings, sending a roar through the crowd.

* * *

My dad races into the justice building with my brother at his heels. The two of them tear up as I flat out start crying. I tell them that I'm sorry and that if Ariel hadn't been reaped I wouldn't have volunteered. And I hate that I have to make my father cry. He is the one that didn't leave me. He is the one that I always knew would love me no matter what.

When they leave, I know my mother isn't going to come and say goodbye. I don't know how I know, but I just do.

I wipe my eyes hastily as the door swings open again. Ariel and Preston come in. Ariel immediately wraps her arms around me, sobbing.

"You didn't have to do that. I'm sure someone would have volunteered."

"But I couldn't be sure. And you know you couldn't survive. And I can." I say my words, like I'm really sure of them. She nods, drawing her sleeve across her stained cheeks.

Preston waits until Ariel takes a step away from me to pull me into a tight hug. He doesn't say anything, he just holds me for a while, and I think he might be crying, from the way his breaths come out kind of weird. I've haven't seen Preston cry since a good four years ago when he broke his arm.

When he lets go of me, he doesn't look right at me. He keeps his face down, and I see Ariel grab her brother's hand as they walk out.

I lean my head against the cool of the wall. The door clangs open. Reese stands a good foot away from me, and takes in a quick breath.

"I just want you to know before you go that…that I love you."

I look up at him, shocked.

"I mean…not like _that_. Like as a friend, you know? Well…if you want it can be like that. I mean…I guess…it's just whatever you want it to be."

"Whatever I want it to be?"

"Yeah."

I would smile. But, I don't really understand why it has to be now, now that there's a chance I'll never see him again.

A peacekeeper kicks open the door.

"You gotta come out now, kid." He grabs Reese's sleeve, and drags him outside. I only get one last look at his hazel eyes as he disappears behind the cold silver of the metal door.

**Jared Lynxx (16) Pov-**

No one comes to say goodbye.

At one point a peacekeeper pokes his head in. I ask him if maybe he can just take me to the train already.

"You have to wait for visitors."

"No one's going to come. I already know."

"You have to wait." He repeats, closing the door.

I let out a long sigh, and close my eyes, enjoying the short moment of silence.


	4. District 3 Reapings

**District 3: Arianne Pixel (16) Pov-**

The thing that I hate the most about my friends is how they're always complaining about things they don't have a right to complain about. Jewel finds the fault in cloudy days and Melanie wines over her dress being imperfect while my doctor tells me I most likely won't live past twenty.

See, I'm pretty popular, and I've got a lot of friends, but all of them are the same mix of ego-crazy, stupid, lunatics that sometimes I don't appreciate having friends at all. Sometimes I wish I could just drop my fake, perky attitude and act the way I really feel…pissed off.

I don't know where to start. Life has been just awful to me. First off it had to get me sick enough so I had to get these surgeries that leave ugly scars.

I walk in front of my mirror, and look at the scar that runs from my left ear to my jaw. I gently rest my fingers on the bumpy skin. I attempt to cover most of the scar with my hair. The blonde curls hide it, but I sometimes forget not to tuck my hair behind my ear. At least the scar on my abdomen is concealed underneath my blue dress. People usually think I'm beautiful until they see the marks on my body, then they just get scared.

And as if the scars aren't enough Life has to make me sick enough that I can't live for much longer. Except, my family can't get the medicine because it's all capitol produced. The only way for me to be completely cured is to win the games and get the medicine from the capitol.

But, Dad's been training me since I turned ten. He's made sure I'm ready. His brother and sister were both killed in the games, so he's not going to take any chances with my training. By now I'm pretty deadly. And what's more, I'm stronger now than I will be in the next few years. The only symptoms I have now are the coughing fits, but that only happens if I exert too much energy too fast. And I've learned to control myself.

"Honey." Mom walks into my room, seeing me standing in front of my mirror. "What a beautiful dress for a beautiful girl."

I give her a quick smile, but I don't respond. She soon leaves my room.

I'm just a little nervous. But, then again, I have more drive to be in the games than any other kids. It's my only chance of survival.

And I will do _anything_ to live long enough to show life it can't continue pushing me around the way it has been.

**District 3: Skip Ryden (18) Pov-**

"Oh what joy…look who it is." Skye jabs my arm, pointing to the red-faced dude storming down the street, heading straight to me.

"Oh no." I groan. "Not again." I spin around, ready to head in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Ryden!" Boral shouts after me. "Don't walk away from me- it's really rude."

"Sorry." I mutter.

"Yeah…well don't do it again because it _really_ pisses me off." He halts as he comes within a few feet from me.

"Okay." I shrug, and share a look with Skye. She covers her mouth to hide a laugh. Boral hears the soft snort she lets out, and he brings his heated glare onto her for a moment, before turning back to me. "So, can I help you with something?"

"Yes you can help me with something. Why the hell else would I want to talk to _you_?"

"Then I am at your service my most valiant sir." I bring my hand to my forehead in a quick salute, and this time Skye lets out a full rip of laughter.

"Quit doing that. It also really pisses me off." He growls. "I'm just making sure you're not messing with my girl again."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The vein on his neck threatens to pierce through his skin.

"Then what was last time?" He takes those extra steps towards me so his face is now only inches from mine. His breath smells like a mix of bacon and orange juice.

"She said you guys weren't together. And anyway- I never laid a finger on her. She was the one who-"

"Quit talking, Ryden." He spits. "Don't talk about my girl unless you're trying to start something with _me_."

I swallow the end of my sentence, and take a step back. "Look, I'm not going to even say hello to her. She's all yours."

He spends the next minute glaring at me, as though attempting to make my head explode with his mind. And fortunately for me, Boral has no super-human powers other than having an unbelievably volcanic temper.

He leans back, jutting his bottom teeth out. "Yeah…well…piss off, then."

I happily comply. Skye follows me away from the fuming boy.

"I didn't know you and Mellissa Andes had a thing."

"We didn't."

"Well then why was he so upset?"

"She just…she hung around with me for a while."

"So you just stood next to each other and didn't kiss or anything?"

"We did kiss." I mumble. Skye raises a brow at me. "But, it wasn't really anything. I honestly didn't try to kiss her or anything. She just came and you can't really say no to…a girl like her."

"Yeah…she's really perfect and beautiful isn't she?" Skye doesn't look at me when she says this.

"She's pretty. But, she's far from perfect. To me, the thing most prominent about her was how mean she was. Anyway, I'm waiting for a girl who's just nice and fun to be around. She doesn't have to be a model or anything. Just someone I can have fun with."

Skye snorts. "Oh _please_. Attractive guys only get with models. It's one of the rules of the world."

I smirk. "Are you calling me attractive?"

"It's not news, dude. Half the girls in the district are in love with you. I get dirty looks just from walking next to you." She glares at me, a hint of a smile on her breath. "Thanks for making all the girls in this district hate me."

I shake my head, and sling my arm over her shoulder. "Now I bet you're going to get beat up." After the look she gives me, I add, "I'm joking. I would never let anyone lay a hand on you."

She smiles. "Okay."

I find it weird when people think that Skye is anything other than a friend to me. She's been my best friend since I could walk. And I don't have very many friends; there are a lot of guys like Boral out there. So I cherish Skye's company a whole lot.

"Hey, August!" I wave at the boy who overtakes us. August is in the grade below me, but he still looks like he's thirteen. He gets bullied a lot because of that. But, August is a really cool guy, despite what people say about him. I don't know him all that well, but sometimes when I see him eating lunch alone at school I go join him because that way people stop teasing him for the time being.

August glances quickly at me, his eyes red and puffy from crying. I can tell Skye sees it too, because she shares a glance with me.

"Hey, are you okay?" I speed up my pace so I can walk beside him.

"Yeah." He shrugs, leaning forward so his messy blonde hair falls in front of his face. "Perfectly wonderful." His voice sounds strangely low.

Skye cracks a joke. Her sense of humor is her secret trick if someone starts crying. It works as a friendly conversation keeper all the way to the reapings, Skye and I just taking turns adding onto a rather ridiculous story, trying to get a smile from August. We don't split up until the boy finally awards us with one.

**District 3: Arianne Pixel (16) Pov-**

I don't remember our escort's name. He repeats it again when introducing himself. But, I'm thinking too hard about what I'm going to do once I get to the capitol and how I should go about training and hoping I get a decent partner.

I only start to pay attention when he announces that it's time to pick a girl tribute. He acts as though we should all be excited. But, hardly any one in district 3 cares for the games, unlike our neighboring districts.

"Okay…and our female tribute will be…Marble Persephone!"

I take a moment to watch the girl from the grade below me wrap her arms around her chest, and shuffle towards the stage. My lips stay shut until I have read the defeat in her eyes.

"I volunteer!" I don't shout. But, everyone hears me all the same, since the words I've uttered are new to most ears in district 3.

Marble lets out a sigh of relief, she sprints over to me, her chubby arms wrapping around my middle.

"Thank you so much. Thank you so much. I…thank you." I limply wait until she's pulled away from me to make my way to the stage, only offering her a soft nod.

"Well I'll be…" Our escort brings his blue eyes to me. "A volunteer. What's your name, then?"

"Arianne Pixel."

"Nice to meet you, Arianne." He says my name like it's drowned with some sugary substance. I offer him one of my fake smiles, then turn to the cameras with this same expression. Smiles usually get kids sponsors.

The dude fishes around in the bowl for a boys name. My eyes graze over the hallowed out faces, all somehow sure they're going to be the one picked. I smile, because there are never good tributes from 3. I shouldn't have to worry about competition.

"Skip Ryden!" Even the name sounds like a puny little twelve-year-old. I run a hand through my hair, watching the younger sections for the boy. But, there's some movement in the section furthest from the stage.

I can't help the soft intake of breath when I see the real Skip Ryden making his way to stage.

There's no doubt that this boy is tall, fit and possibly one of the handsomest boys I've laid eyes on. His dark brown hair complements his tanned skin. As he walks onto stage, he grins. I can see in his soft chocolate brown eyes he's shaken, but only because I'm standing a few inches from him.

Not exactly the kind of competition I was expecting. But, I won't let anyone get in my way of winning. I'm going to kill him. I'll kill him without even thinking about it. Because I don't have a choice.

* * *

Mom gets all emotional and sobs into my shoulder. Dad is more civilized about saying goodbye. He hugs me once and tells me I'm going to do great, and that I shouldn't doubt myself because he has trained me well.

"Yeah. Course. I'll see you guys soon. I'll try and make these games quick." I give Mom and Dad the look I give them every time I want to be alone, which is really most of the time that I look at them at all.

They seem to understand I want a moment just with Cole and Copper.

"You're going to win, Arianne, I know you are." Cole grabs my hand, looking up into my eyes once Mom and Dad have left. Both him and his twin brother, have the same green eyes as me. My little brothers are the only people I really like at all. I mean, my parents are cool and all and I'll always have some gratitude for them, but I don't really _like_ them. It's as simple as that.

"And…just so you know…you can go in my room while I'm gone. But only _once_." I clarify. "I left a note for you guys under my bed. Just if some miracle happens and I don't make it back- it's everything you need to know about…" I stop for a moment, fishing for the right words, "anything."

**District 3: Skip Ryden (18) Pov-**

"Well, you know, i think you can win. And I'm being really honest about this." Skye bites her lip. "I mean, you'll get sponsors for sure, and you're strong and everything. You can do this."

"Thanks, Skye." We stare at each other in silence for a while. It's not really awkward. It's actually kind of nice, because there isn't really anything to say. Eventually Skye opens her mouth, letting out a "holy shit. Well, this certainly puts a downer on things."

"You won't be saying that when i come back a rich man." I smirk. She laughs, and throws her arms around me in a quick hug.

"Okay, then. I'm going to see you in a few weeks. It's a deal, right?" She holds out her hand. I grasp it firmly in a handshake.

"Yup. Sure is."

The second she leaves, my family hurries in. My parents huddle around me, while Rain stays a few steps away.

"Skip." My dad lets my name sit on his tongue for a while. "You have to come back, okay? Because you can. You're brilliant. You're the best son i could..." He stops for a moment, swallowing.

My mother cries softly, wiping away the tears that spill onto her cheeks with her gentle fingers. "I love you so much. I love you so much, Skip."

"I love you too, Mom." I hold her hand in my own.

Rain cocks her head to the right, her brown eyes studying my expression. "It's not so bad." The violence in the games has never been something to faze my little sister. She licks her lips before continuing. "I mean…the hunger games offer such a great opportunity for every tribute. Death is a consequence. But, the prize is more than some of most people could ever imagine. Some might even say it's worth it."

I have no way of responding to Rain. She smiles at me. "And I'm proud of you. I know you'll win." All of a sudden she doesn't look so cool, and her eyes dart away from mine for a moment. "I'm not saying that it's worth it if you die. I don't want you to die." Her eyebrows come together. "I love you."

"I love you too, Rain." I bend down so I can pull my little sister into a hug.

"I'm just saying you have to rise to the occasion, Skip."

**Okay, now district 3 is done! Also, I am going to do sponsoring for this story. I'll go over how it's going to work more once the reapings are over. But, in order to get sponsor points, just answer the question at the end of each chapter correctly which counts as 10 points, and a review counts as another 5 points as well. Also, once the reapings are over, you ca PM me with a first few choices for a partner for your tribute to be paired with. The more sponsor points you have, the more likely it is that you'll get your first choice. **

**So here is the Question: (you have to guess, it's not in the chapter) What was the last hunger games a district 3 tribute won? (hint: it's between the 80th and the 85th)  
**


	5. District 4 Reapings

**District 4: Janette McKinley (16) Pov-**

There's something about the smell of oatmeal drenched in syrup that makes my mouth water- but not in a good way. In a way where it's just so revolting I can't quite remember how to manage my saliva glands properly. We always eat oatmeal on reaping day. Mom and Dad think it's a treat- a break from the bland toast with butter we have every breakfast. But, I'm not quite up to telling them it's torture.

Amica has already applied light pink lip gloss, unconcerned with the fact that it might smudge away with breakfast. I bite my lip seeing how close every spoonful of oatmeal comes to falling on her reapings dress. I'm wearing my jacket already, so I can cover up my blue gown. But, it doesn't stop me from cringing every time my little sisters hair falls into her breakfast.

"So, are you guys excited to see what sort of revolting outfit Kenneth Hopper will be modeling today?" Dad adds another squeeze of syrup to his bowl. Amica laughs.

"I don't think he can beat last time. I mean, he was pretty much wearing a banana costume!"

I share a look with Mom, who sighs.

"I'm not excited at all. I mean, I'm not ready to see what kind of misguided kids decide to volunteer and kill themselves this year."

"Oh come on, Mom." Amica chuckles, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Lighten up, some. It's not like district 4 never wins."

"Well, one of them always dies." She shakes her head.

"I just wish I could teach president Road a lesson." I bring my spoon down hard on the wooden table, causing the water in my glass to tremble.

"What? And so you're going to take it out on _my_ table?" Dad brings his eyebrows together.

"Sorry." I shovel another spoonful of oatmeal in my mouth, trying to swallow the thick, gooey substance.

"I'm just joking, sweetheart." Dad gives my shoulder a squeeze, his blue eyes twinkling. "It's only a piece of wood."

"Yeah. Like I said. You two have got to lighten up." Amica shakes her head, a light smirk on her lips.

Mom and I are the serious ones in the family. We don't get the constant jokes Dad and Amica crack. It's not that we never laugh. We just have a lot less time devoted to the silly things.

I mutter something about finishing getting ready as I hurry out of the kitchen. I know Cairyn will be here soon and I don't like to keep people waiting. Cairyn is my best friend. He's soft spoken and well-mannered, but he also knows how to have fun.

I run a brush through my auburn hair, then fix the way my dress sits on my shoulders. I like the color blue because it brings out the blue in my otherwise grey eyes.

By the time I return from my room, Cairyn is already standing at the front door. No doubt, Mom has already offered him a bowl of oatmeal, and he has politely denied it.

"Hey." I wave at him, casually. "See you guys later." I shoot in the direction of my family, before heading out with Cairyn.

"So, are you nervous?" Cairyn asks, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

"No. There is no reason to be nervous. Whatever happens happens. Being nervous doesn't change the future."

"Not even a little nervous?" His hazel eyes squint, studying my expression. "You are human, aren't you?"

I let a chuckle escape my lips. "Oh no, I thought you realized I was one of those aliens from the capitol."

For some reason I'm not so uptight around Cairyn. I just relax and sometimes I even crack jokes, though they're never stupid, I make sure they're really thought out before I say anything. But, that's just the way I do everything.

**District 4: Tommy Scott (17) Pov-**

"Hey, you know…I've been thinking…I should totally run for mayor, right?" I turn to Jason, who just rolls his eyes, kicking away at a couple of the stones that litter ground.

"Yeah…definitely. The mayor should totally be a seventeen-year-old idiot."

"Hey," I give him a light punch in the shoulder, and he cringes. "Don't call me an idiot. I'm smart, and talented and I'd be rich if I was mayor."

"You would be rich. But our district would be in turmoil." He smirks.

"Name please." The peacekeeper mutters in Jason's direction. I know Jason hates checking in on reaping day. It doesn't matter that he's been doing this for 6 years by now. He still can't stand drawing blood. That's why I try to keep him distracted with how awesome I am.

"Uh…Jason Meltzer." He whispers through his teeth. He takes a deep breath as the needle makes an entrance into his index finger. Some of the kids in the line behind us snicker. When it's over Jason sticks just about his whole hand in his mouth, looking ready to cry.

"Name please." The peacekeeper hardly raises an eye in my direction.

"My name is Tommy Scott." I announce. He grabs my hand, drawing a quick drop of blood. I've never been phased by blood. I mean, it's just a part of people. Besides, I'm a great fan of the hunger games and I have to be able to stomach blood if I want to watch the games every day they're on.

In my free time, sometimes I practice combat for fun. I pretend trees are my enemies and I steal some knives from home and practice throwing them. I've gotten incredibly good. I would never volunteer for the games, because Mom and Dad might get angry with me. But, it would be pretty awesome to be a tribute.

"Earth to Tommy…" Jason waves his hand in front of my face. "Maybe you should move and stop blocking all the people trying to pass you."

"Oh…right." I saunter over to the other guys in my grade. Jason looks pretty nervous. Though, I can't tell if it's because he's actually afraid of getting reaped or if he's still recovering from the little incident with the needle.

Kenneth Hopper is a cool guy. He has this deep, thunderous voice. Through the speakers, the tone of his words causes the ground beneath my feet to tremble. Though his voice is pretty awesome, I know I would probably be a better escort than him. I would be a better escort than anyone. I'd be confident and I'd know how to make the nervous tributes laugh.

Kenneth is pretty awful at cracking jokes. He doesn't try. He just gets right down to business. Spending a few minutes reviewing the rules for the quarter quell this year. I think about how much it would suck to be a career who got paired with one of those wimps from an outlying district.

"And the girls tribute for the 100th hunger games is..." Kenneth runs his thumb across the creases in the small slip of paper. "Janette McKinley."

**District 4: Janette McKinley (16) Pov-**

My hands fall limply to my side. My name sounds strange through the speakers. I blink a couple of times, trying to sort through the thoughts racing in my mind. It's just instinct that makes me take those steps towards the stage, I'm not really thinking.

Kenneth Hopper is a lot more hideous up close. His orange blazer brings out the underlying red tone of his skin and the yellow of his crooked teeth.

"Any volunteers?" He turns to look out at district 4. No one moves a muscle. I keep a straight face, staring at the way Kenneth's chin wiggles as he speaks. "Okay. Let's move on to the boy's."

Sometimes a boy volunteers in district 4. It's not as common as in district 1 and 2, but it happens, especially if a rather weak-looking tribute is reaped.

"Tommy Scott!"

A guy emerges from one of the sections furthest form the stage. He's pretty tall, definitely not a weakling. There isn't much particularly striking about him, except how happy he looks as he saunters up to stage. He runs his fingers through his long dark hair, and smiles like he believes he's the most important person in the world. As he stands next to me, he waves in my direction, grinning.

"What's up?"

I just blink a few times, my expression remaining blank. It's not until he's already turned to the cameras and is wiggling his eyebrows around that I figure he was talking to me.

* * *

"Janette, you have to promise me that you're going to come back." Amica holds my hands between her own, her grey eyes filled with panic.

"I will try my hardest."

"That's not good enough. You _have_ to come back. You just _have_ to." She wipes some of the tears that have spilled onto her cheeks with her shoulder. "I don't know what I'm going to do without my older _sister_."

I grasp her hands tighter in mine, and eventually nod. It's not an obvious promise, but it gets her looking a little bit more contained. I turn my gaze on my parents.

"I know you may not be as strong as the other tributes. But, you're a great thinker." Mom's voice is strict and sure. "And in the end you just have to outlast the other tributes. You don't have to fight all of them. And I know you can outlast anyone if you put your mind to it."

I lick my lips quickly, not quite sure of how to respond. I just nod again.

"Good. I will miss you." She lets out a deep breath. "I love you, Janette."

This causes me to lose the relatively blank face I've been forcing on myself. My mother doesn't say she loves me very often. I know she loves me. But, she just never really says she loves anyone, because it's just the way she is.

"I…I love you, too." My voice is barely above a whisper. "I love all of you guys. And I promise I'm going to come back."

I figure even if it's a lie, it will at least give my family a week or so of being a little less nervous.

I get one last hug from Mom, and kiss on the cheek from Dad, before my family heads out of the room and I'm trying to swallow the fact that I might never see any of them again. I shake my head, trying to focus myself. I just have to keep concentrated the next few weeks.

The door opens again. Cairyn shuffles inside, his shoes scraping against the listless tiles on the floor.

"Hey." I nod in his direction. He doesn't say anything. He just stares at the collar of my dress."I guess this is goodbye, for now anyway."

"Yeah."

"Well, have fun while I'm gone." I mutter. He runs a hand through his bronze hair, his face twisted into a grimace. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"No…it's just…you're my best friend and I don't know what I'd do if I never saw you again." He finally looks into my eyes. "I'm really going to miss you, Janette."

"I'll miss you, too." I say. "I already promised to my sister I would win. And you know I can't break a promise to my little sister. So, don't worry yourself too much, okay?"

**District 4: Tommy Scott (17) Pov-**

"No way, dude!" Jason just about shouts in my face. "The hunger games!"

"Yeah…I know…it's awesome, right?"

"You're…" He takes a moment to catch his breath. "The hunger games!"

"Okay, calm down a little. I know it's exciting, but don't have a panic attack over how lucky I am."

"You're going to be famous!" He puts his hands on my shoulders, and shakes me a few times. I peel his fingers off me, laughing.

"I always knew I'd be famous someday. I could just feel it inside of me. There was always something special in my bones."

"You better not die."

I'm quiet for a moment. "Nah. I'm not going to."

"Well, just be careful, because it can get..."

"I'm _positive_ I'm not going to die."

"Okay. Good. I'll see you later, then." Jason lifts his fingers in a wave, before heading out.

Mom and Dad are pretty pissed when they come in. Even Sam doesn't look too thrilled. Though, he's probably just jealous that his little brother got reaped and he never did. The three of them seem content on making the moment sad and thoughtful. I just stand there are smile. I mean, I'm going to be a tribute in the 4th quarter quell. Nothing this exciting has ever happened before. And anyway, as Jason said, I'm going to be famous.

And being famous is always awesome.

**Answer to last question: The 84th hunger games was won by a district 4 tribute. **

**Next question: What color was Kenneth Hopper wearing?  
**


	6. District 5 Reapings

**District 5: Talen Morton (15) Pov-**

Blood is a beautiful color. It's a deep scorching red, which twists itself into a dark almost black when it dries. I used to go to the butcher before school, so I could watch him kill the animals and skin the game. Because there was always that moment where the blood would spill onto the butcher's white shirt- and it would run down the fabric, lightly tracing the creases in the cloth. I loved the way it moved, slightly more sluggish than water, but therefore much more careful and calculating.

"What is that smell?" Rose makes a face as she places a plate with some toast and jam in front of me. I shrug.

"Maybe it's just outside." Sometimes the fumes from the factories get in the air.

"No. It's definitely coming from inside." She sighs, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"I'll keep an eye out, and if I see anything I'll make sure to tell you."

Rose's green eyes glisten with sadness as she lays a delicate hand on mine. "You are such a good son. The best son I could ever ask for." Her lips turn up slightly, revealing something close to a smile: one that reflects only wretchedness and despair. That is my favorite smile on her. My mother always looks more beautiful when she is sad.

I jump up from the table, telling Rose I must get dressed. Instead, I lock my bedroom door behind me, and crawl under my bed. The small black vent takes a few shakes before I can open it. Immediately the rancid smell hits me in the face, I draw my collar over my nose, and grab the bottle of Rose's perfume from my pocket, giving the vent a good few sprays. A scraping sound emits from the dark vent, I reach my hand further in, my fingers locking around the rough fur.

"How are you today?" I coo, gently running my thumb across the hairless tail of the rat. I sewed him to one of the injured birds I found outside. But, the bird is dead by this morning. That's the horrible smell. I decide it's no use trying to break them apart. And I would put them back in the vent, but last time I left the dead cat in there, Rose went so crazy she came into my room looking for the smell. And I can't have Rose wandering into my room. There are many things she must not see.

I decide I'll just skin them both, quickly. I've never seen a bird-rat skinned, and I'm sure the sight must be incredibly enticing.

The pocketknife is in my closet drawer, right beside my white shirts. The knife snickers as it's flicked open. The rat squirms only slightly as the blade dives into his throat. I do the skinning quickly. I've done it many times already so it's easy. I like to pretend I'm the butcher.

I get out my sketchbook, and make a hasty drawing- just enough so that I'll be able to remember what it looked like when I look back on my book. I jot down the outcome of bird-rat, before wrapping the animal in one of Rose's shirts, and throwing it out my window, into the dumpster. No one ever goes through that trash anymore, so it's the perfect place to dispose of my unsuccessful creations.

I change into my sharpest pants and button down shirt, running a comb through my brown hair.

Rose is scrubbing away at the dishes when I enter the kitchen again. She turns around to get a good look at me, and she actually looks content. A soft happiness lightens her features. She dries her hands on her skirt, before placing a damp finger on my cheek.

"You're getting to be so handsome." Her eyes run across my face. "Promise me you won't go around breaking girls hearts, okay?"

"I promise I won't." I smile. "You know I would never hurt a fly."

**District 5: Sophie Merita (13) Pov-**

I glance back at my parents. Mom waves at me, and Dad offers an assuring smile. They know I get nervous for the reapings. I think everyone does, it's just most hate to admit it. I always wished for a sibling, just so that someone could understand exactly how I felt every year, and they would be able to go through this with me. Though, all I have to pull me through this year is Karen's commentating the every move of our escort, Pina May. Karen has this idea that she's a riot. Apparently she never realizes no one laughs when she speaks.

"Look at the way she swivels on her heels when she speaks! She looks like a parrot!" Karen chuckles. I nod, offering her a tiny smile just so as not to be rude or anything because Karen really is a good friend. And she only ever goes all joke-telling crazy when she's nervous.

Pina is a girl who loves to listen to herself talk. Today is no exception. When she finally stops babbling, I'm actually relieved as she approaches the bowl containing all the girls' names.

"I would like to welcome to the stage…" She unfolds the thin piece of paper, taking a moment to squint. "Sophie Merita!"

There's something about getting reaped that turns the volume down on most everything. I don't really hear the whispers from sorry people as I make my way up to the stage. I make sure not to look at Mom or Dad because I don't want to cry on camera. That will just finish off the small sliver of a chance I may have.

Pina stares at me, appearing slightly disappointed, but after the moment of pity, a huge grin spreads across her face, showing off her little teeth.

"Let's find our lucky guy, then…" She fishes around in the boys' names bowl for a while, a silence envelops the crowd. "Peter Markus!"

"I volunteer!"

I search for the source of the voice. My eyes roam through the eighteen-year-old section, then the seventeen-year-old section. But the boy that makes his way up to stage strolls out of the fifteen-year-old section. A small, almost imperceptible smile lingers on his lips, as he comes to stand beside me.

"And what's your name?" Pina asks, barely being able to hold back her excitement.

"Talen Morton."

The first thing I notice about Talen is that he's very beautiful. He's not particularly big or strong. He's average height and on the skinny side. But, he has a very feminine beauty to him, though I wouldn't say he looks like a girl. He peers down at his shoes for a moment; his brown hair falls forward, almost covering his glistening green eyes, when he looks back out at the crowd, that same smile is back: that same enticing smirk.

I let out a heavy sigh, causing my thin black hair to flutter around my face. Needless to say, I'm not very thrilled that my district partner is prettier than I am.

"Well, shake hands then." Pina chirps. Talen wraps his hand around mine, giving a gentle shake. The grin growing just enough to show a set of bright, white teeth.

**District 5: Talen Morton (15) Pov-**

Rose runs in, her eyes a stunning red, the skin around them sagging.

"Why?" She chokes out. "Why would you do something like that?"

"Rose."

"I'm your mother, Talen. Why can't you just call me that?"

"Mother." I grasp her hand, gently running my fingers across her palm. "I'm so sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. I just saw that innocent boy get reaped and I knew I had to do something." She starts sobbing, wrapping her arms around me.

"You're such an angel. But, why do you have to be everyone else's angel? Why can't you just be mine?"

Her tears seep through my shirt, I make some sniffing sounds, so she might think I'm crying. When she pulls away, she whispers a strained, "I love you."

The door shuts behind her with a strident clank of metal.

I straiten my shirt and smile.

**District 5: Sophie Merita (13) Pov-**

Mother knows I'm too little to fight. Father knows I don't have a chance against any of the bigger tributes. And I can hear in the waver of their voices that they don't believe I will return. But, that doesn't stop them from doing everything they can to get me prepared in the two minutes they have to say goodbye.

"And always keep your eyes open."

"Okay."

"Don't trust anyone but your partner."

"Okay"

"Find a good hiding place right away."

"Okay."

"Then go right for water."

"Yes. Okay." I rub my eyes, attempting to smear the moisture onto my hands. But, it only causes my eyes to become even redder. "I don't want to die."

"No one said you were going to die, honey. And if you don't think positively it's really not going to help." Dad grasps my hand. I don't want to let go of it. I don't ever want to let go of him. Maybe I can hold on so tight that none of the peacekeepers can make me go. And they'll have to pick another tribute.

But, eventually my fingers loosen and I shrink into the corner of the dimly lit room as my parents are pestered out of the room.

I guess my only hope now is getting a good partner; someone who can do all the fighting while I do all the hiding.

**Answer to the last question: Kenneth Hopper was wearing an ORANGE blazer.  
**

**New Question: What gender was the rat that Talen used in his most recent creation?  
**


	7. District 6 Reapings

**District 6: Anderson Piely (13) Pov-**

"_Mom_, Tim is being _gross."_

"Andy started it."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Please. Stop." Mom turns away from the sink to face Tim and me. "Can you two _please_ just be quiet and at least _pretend_ to get along this morning?" She brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose, giving it a good pinch as she closes her eyes. "I didn't get much sleep last night, so I really need some quiet."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll be quiet." I frown. "It's just that I'm trying to eat breakfast, but Tim keeps doing nasty stuff with his food."

"Only because _you_ kept making that slurping sound that I hate." My little brother spits.

"That's my eating sound." I shrug.

"No it isn't. You never eat like that when Dad's home."

I get quiet, and take a nervous glance at Mom. She has that face on again. The one where the sides of her lips fold into a grimace, and the creases in her forehead become more prominent against her pale skin. Tim and I aren't supposed to mention our father because Mom always ends up crying and embarrassing us.

As her eyes become watery, I suddenly remember something really important I have to do for school and Tim exclaims that he forgot to flush the toilet. The two of us leave the woman crying in the kitchen.

I don't understand why she gets so upset about Dad. He left her for a younger, hotter woman. I mean, his girlfriend, Isabella, is really a looker. Last year, when Dad invited me over to his house for dinner, I decided I was in love with her. I didn't care that she was with my Dad.

"Andy!" Tim whispers from the doorway to my room. "What are we going to do? She just doesn't stop crying."

"Stop mentioning Dad, idiot." I scowl.

"Well, he's my Dad. It's not like I can ignore him."

"You should try." I cross my arms. Tim takes a few more steps into my room, closing the door behind him.

"Maybe if we get her a boyfriend she'll be happier."

"And how are we going to do that? She's not pretty like she was ten years ago. She's just wrinkly and ugly."

"That's not nice." Tim snaps. "She's our Mom."

"I'm just being honest." I shrug. "I would have done the same thing as Dad."

Tim gets that angry look on his eleven-year-old face. His eyebrows twist into a line. He slams my door on the way out.

I plop onto my bed, and think about Dad's girlfriend.

**District 6: Hadley Paxton (15) Pov-**

"Good morning, sir." I smile at the peacekeeper in front of me.

"Name?"

"Hadley Paxton." He grabs my hand, jabbing a needle into my finger. I cringe as he smears the small drops of blood on the slot next to my name. "Have a nice day." I wave as I head away from the line. He is too busy to answer.

It doesn't matter. I know life must be hard as a peacekeeper; everyone runs away from you, and the few that aren't terrified curse at you. I'm just trying to bring a little light to their day.

Markus slides his hand into mine.

"I still don't get why you're so focused on making everyone like you. Am _I_ not enough?" He plants a quick kiss on my lips. I chuckle.

"I'm just trying to make everyone get along. And you are enough for me. You always will be."

Markus smiles. His bright blonde hair is almost too stunning to look at in the midday sun. Markus has been my boyfriend for almost three years now, and I couldn't be happier about it.

"I'd better get to the boy's section. But, I'll see you after the reapings, okay?" Markus gives my hand one last squeeze, before heading off.

"Hadley!" Sera races over to me, a huge grin plastered across her face.

"Hey, girl!" I give her a hug. "You look absolutely beautiful. Did your Mom make this dress, too?"

Sera nods, running her hands across the red fabric. Some kids think it weird that Sera's mother makes all her clothes, but I always think Sera looks beautiful in anything she wears.

"You look beautiful too, Hadley."

"Not as gorgeous as you." I shoot back, positively beaming.

"Guys, have you seen my little brother?" Harlow stops momentarily beside Sera and I. Her usual calm expression, had given way to a wild wide-eyed air. "He's real short. Blonde hair…was crying his eyes out last time I saw."

"Sorry." Sera shakes her head.

"I don't know where to look, anymore. Two minutes ago he was standing right by that boy over there and now he's just disappeared."

"Here. I'll help you find him." I grab Harlow's sweaty hand.

"You don't have to. The reapings are about to start. I don't want you to get in trouble or anything."

"I'll always have time to help a friend out." I smile.

"Oh. Wait a second." Harlow lets out a heavy sigh. "I forgot. I took him to the twelve-year-old section. Wow, I'm just an air-head."

"No. You're not. You're probably just nervous."

Harlow looks at me, a slightly annoyed glint in her green eyes. "You can call me an air-head sometimes, Hadley. It's not against the rules or anything to stop being overly-nice for a second."

"I've not overly-nice." I say. "I'm just being a good friend."

"Look. I'll see you later." She wanders over to her section. Harlow is a great girl; sometimes she acts sort of strange, though. She gets upset over the littlest things.

I'm about to head over to the 15-year-old section when I see a little girl standing by a group of eighteen-year-old boys. She's crying, and obviously lost. It's probably her first reaping. I approach her, kneeling down so I can look her in the eyes.

"Hey. Are you looking for the other twelve-year-olds?"

She shakes her head.

"I don't want to get reaped." She chokes out.

"Are you scared?" I ask.

The girl nods, sniffing quietly.

"Don't be scared, honey. Here, look into my eyes." I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Do I look scared?"

The girl gets really still for a moment before shaking her head.

"Exactly. And I've been going to the reapings for 4 years now. You shouldn't be scared. I promise you won't be picked."

"Hey! What are you doing? Get your hands off my little sister!" One of the eighteen-year-olds grabs the girl, and glares at me. "What a creep." The boy shakes his head as I hurry away.

Sometimes being the good guy doesn't work out so well. But, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop. I don't care how many people think I'm a creep, or wish I would just call them an airhead sometimes.

The world needs more good guys.

**District 6: Anderson Piely (13) Pov-**

I hate reaping day. It sucks. I don't understand why people can't have chairs to sit in, instead of making their feet and back hurt with the hours of standing still, crammed between nervous kids.

I scowl, watching district 6's escort go on and on about the capitol and the history of the hunger games. When she finally gets to choose a tribute, I lend half of my attention to her.

"Hadley Paxton!"

Some blonde girl starts crying. And a bunch of peacekeepers have to escort her to stage.

No one volunteers for her.

I kind of feel sorry for her. It must really suck to get reaped. And she doesn't look like a girl who is about to turn into a killing machine.

Again I zone out and stare at my shoes while the boy tribute is picked. Someone gives me a shove in the back. I spin around.

"Um, excuse me, could you please not hit me?" I grumble.

The boy shares a look with his friend.

"You're Anderson Piely, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh…dude…you just got reaped."

* * *

"Holy crap, Andy. I can't believe it…you're going to die."

"Shut up, Tim." I whisper.

"I'm sorry, Andy. I'm sorry for not being a better little brother."

"I said shut up." I turn away from him so he can't see the tears that threaten to spill out of my eyes.

Mom pulls me into a suffocating hug. She whispers all of these words to me. That it's going to be okay. That I just have to remember the end brings new beginnings. I pull away from her.

"You guys don't have to act like such jerks. I'm not going to die. I can't believe you guys think I'm going to."

"Andy…" Mom sobs. Her dark hair spills in front of her face. People say I look like my mother; or how she used to look. I have her same pale skin, and thick dark locks. Though, I got my father's grey eyes.

"No. I don't want to hear any more from you guys. You can go. Tell the peacekeepers I only want to see Dad. Everyone else can go." I keep my back to them, and only once the door closes do I let out a long sigh.

It feels like a long time before another person's footsteps pad across the cold floor.

"Andy?" I instantly recognize the sweat, sugary voice as belonging to Isabella. I turn around so I can get a good look at her beautiful tan skin and long blonde hair. "Andy. Your father…he's really busy. But, he wanted me to tell you that he loves you."

I continue staring at her, desperately trying to memorize the way the corners of her mouth naturally turn down in an irresistible pout. "Thank you for coming. You know, you were just the person I wanted to see."

"Oh."

"Isabella?"

"Yes, Andy?"

"Do you ever think about me?"

"Of course. I mean, your father talks about you a lot. You're a great kid."

"What do you think about me?"

"Like I said…I think you're a great kid."

"Do you ever think about kissing me?"

"Wow…um…" She bites her lip, blinking her hazel eyes. "Andy. You've just turned thirteen…I'm twenty-six."

"Yeah. Well, my Dad's forty-five."

She swallows, staring at me. Eventually she whispers, "Okay."

And so I stand on my toes, and lay my lips on hers. She tastes like a mix of cherries and coffee. Just the way I imagined.

**District 6: Hadley Paxton (15) Pov-**

Sera and Harlow make their goodbyes quick. They each give me a hug, and a couple of words of encouragement through their sobs. Harlow mentions that I don't have to call her an airhead if I don't want to.

Markus is the next one in. He isn't crying. I'm the one that sobs into his shirt. He just holds me, remaining completely silent. I can always tell when Markus is upset because he just gets really quiet, and isn't the same friendly, bubbly person he usually is.

"I'm going to miss you." I mumble. Markus puts his hands on my shoulders, and looks into my blue eyes.

"Just come back, okay?"

I sniff, quickly wiping my eyes. "I'll try."

I hate to see the hurt in his eyes. "Please, come back. I don't care what you have to do to come back. Just, please tell me you'll come back."

I can only offer him a quick kiss on the lips.

My parents look completely torn apart when they enter the room. I don't know how I would feel if my only child just got reaped.

"I love you, Hadley," Mom whispers into my hair. Her gentle hands draped around me.

"I love you, too."

"Please come back, honey." My father's voice is strained.

"I'm going to do all that I can. Don't worry yourselves too sick, okay?" I look into Mom's soft blue eyes, then Dad's light green ones. "I promise you guys that no matter what happens you're going to be okay. And even if I don't make it back I'm going to be here. I'm going to be watching out for you two. Always."

**Answer to last question: The rat was male**

**New question: What color are Hadley's father's eyes?  
**


	8. District 7 Reapings

******District 7:************ Clara Kinking (16) Pov-**  


The morning of the reapings is never different from any other morning in the Kinking house. My mother and father leave me to my world, I only catch glimpses of them while I go to make myself some breakfast and father is still sipping some of his coffee and mother is cleaning the kitchen floor. They both say good morning to me, but they don't once look at me when they speak. It's just another normal morning for me.

It's not that I have awful parents that don't care for me. They're perfectly good guardians, always making sure there is food for me to eat, supplies I need to do school work, and anything I could possibly need. My parents just don't talk to me very much, and over the years, they've come to just about ignore me. Not in a spiteful way. It just sort of happened.

So, I don't attempt telling them I'm leaving for the reapings early. They hardly glance up as the front door closes behind me.

I have worn the same dress to the reapings two years in a row, because the fabric makes my green eyes pop. The dress used to drape past my knees, but now it's merely a short green slip showing off my long, thin legs.

Colin waits right outside his house, leaning against the cold metal bricks of the building. He smiles as soon as he sees me, jogging over.

"Hey." I nod.

"Morning, Clara." Colin stares at me for a moment, before shoving his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground. "You look nice."

"Thanks. You don't look so shabby yourself." I comment. Colin straightens the collar of his shirt, turning a faint pink.

"So…want to take the long way?" Colin asks.

"Yeah. We still have over an hour." I mutter.

Colin is my best friend. I spend most of my free time with him.

We talk a bit about last years games. Mostly just ends up with me fuming about the capitol and how I wish there was something I could do to change things.

Colin grabs my arm, forcing me to a halt as we come to a large group of people blocking the street. Most of the faces in the crowd belong to kids in my grade. I hurry into the horde of people.

"What's going on?" I ask one boy.

"Joey's going to ride his bike from the roof of this building to that one." The boy points, his blue eyes wide with admiration. I glance up the four stories to the top of the roof. Joey Morel stands on the edge, his light brown hair blowing in the wind, that smirk that's permanently sketched across his face prominent to me even from my spot on the ground.

Unlike most girls my age, I don't find Joey the least bit interesting. I'll admit that in third grade the boy's daredevil attitude mixed with his undeniable good looks made him the talk of the class. But, I outgrew the Joey Morel obsession by the time I was 9. However, most of my grade is still nursing a pretty serious bout of Joey Morel fever.

I share a scowl with Colin, and the two of us hurry past the group of spectators.

******District 7: **Joey Morel (16) Pov-

"Don't do it, man." Tommy pulls at my sleeve. "This isn't a good idea."

"And has that ever stopped me before?"

"But, that's a really big drop…if you mess up…"

"I'm not going to screw this up, okay?" I straddle my bike, and adjust my gloves. I've owned this particular pair since I turned 10. They're open fingered so they have a good flexibility- yet the black cloth over my palms improves the grip. I never complete a dare without wearing my gloves. Because as long as I'm wearing them, I know I'm going to be brilliant.

"Go stand with the others." I wave Tommy away. He just sulks off, climbing back down the side of the justice building.

I lay my bike down for a moment, shuffling over to the edge of the roof. It looks to be about a six-foot gap between the two buildings. Nothing impossible. But it's not exactly going to be effortless, either. There is a decent crowd forming the four stories down. Most of the girls have paled, while every guy except Tommy is wearing a smug grin.

"Hurry it up, man!" Kevin calls. "I want to see you break your neck already before the reapings start!" Kevin was the one who dared me to do this. He knows I never turn down a dare.

He acts like my enemy; except the weird thing is that he's my friend. His way of showing his appreciation is explaining how much he'd like to see me die.

"Be careful, Joey!" Cynthia calls, twisting a lock of her brown hair, her finger shaking with nerves. My heart rate quickens as I pick up my bike again, placing my feet on the pedals, and teetering to a start. I bike around the roof, picking up speed, before I dip my head down, and tear towards the edge.

It's a lie that people can't fly. I've flown many times before. But, I never get tired of that moment where my stomach jumps up to somewhere in my chest and my hair sticks to my ears.

Once I feel the ground beneath my tires, I jump off my bike, landing against the coarse roof. The cheers from the ground erupt, and I smile to myself. Another success. I figure climbing down the side of the building with my bike isn't going to be simple, so I try the door on the roof, and find it open.

My bike scrapes against the door-frame, and I hurry down the stairs. Some studious looking dude stops walking up the steps and glares at me as I haul my bike by him.

"Ex_cuse_ me." He sneers. "What are you doing? There are no bikes allowed in the library."

"Yeah. I know." I mutter, continuing down the stairs.

"Ex_cuse_ me." He repeats, though this time with a bit more volume. He reaches out grabbing the back wheel of my bike. "I'm going to have to take that from you."

"No. I…No the peacekeeper…on the roof…is coming. Angry. The library."

"Huh?"

"The peacekeeper on the roof is coming. Angry. And the library door. The capitol. President Road. I'm doing business."

"_What_?" By the now guy is so confused he has let go of my bike. I back up slowly, once there's enough distance between us, I spin around, racing down the rest of the steps. "Hey! Come _back_ here!"

I kick the door open, tripping out into the spring air.

"Dude, that was _awesome_!" A guy shouts, running over to me, he gives me a high five.

I let myself enjoy the slaps on the back and the words of amazement until the library door opens a second time.

"Hey, _you!_ Kid with the bike! You'd better come back here! I wasn't done talking to you."

"Oh crap." I spin around quickly, jumping on my bike, adding a quick, "catch you later, dudes" to the remaining kids.

******District 7: ************Clara Kinking (16) Pov-**

Yeliza Jennings doesn't look like an escort. Her hair is a natural dark brown and her face has had virtually no plastic surgery done to it. Even her make-up looks like a pretty normal person could have done it. It's when the woman opens her mouth that everyone can tell exactly how capitol-made she really is.

"Welcome to the reapings, district 7!" Yeliza sits on every vowel as though attempting to drown out the rest of her sentence. "Are we excited about the 100th hunger games?"

A few polite people whistle. Most just gaze glumly at the stage. I don't try to pretend the reapings are anything but depressing.

"I think everyone looks ready to find our lucky girl, right?" Yeliza's voice reverberates through the speakers. This time no one is polite enough to give any sort of response. "Okay…wonderful." I can almost hear the sarcasm in her voice as she fishes through the bowl of girls' names. She takes a while to grasp one, as though she might just be human enough to understand that the person she chooses is probably going to die.

"Clara Kinking!"

A silence rings through the crowd.

"Clara Kinking?"

Again no one moves.

"Clara Kinking. Please come to stage."

The girl next to me is nudging me in the side with her elbow. I just keep very still. Eventually the girl shouts, "Clara is right here!"

I glare at her, and whisper a string of curses in her direction.

"Clara, honey, are you coming?" Yeliza has found my face in the crowd. I don't move a muscle. There's no way I'm just going to walk up to stage and accept my fate. Eventually two peacekeepers grab onto me.

"Let go of me." I mutter, my words cold. They just jerk my body forward. "I said let go of me!" This time I make sure they hear me.

I'm dragged against the rough gravel, and tossed onto stage.

"Don't even think about moving." One of the peacekeepers points to the gun he has in his pocket. I glower in his direction, but dust my dress off, straightening up. I give a glance at my appearance in the large screen, my wavy red hair slightly disheveled by the scrap with the peacekeepers. I pat down the locks, and shoot another nasty glare at the peacekeeper, before realizing the whole of Panem is going to be watching me getting reaped and I should probably quit acting like a hostile teenager.

I try out a soft smile. Nothing like those creepy career smiles, but just enough so I don't look quite so unapproachable.

No one volunteers for me. It's not like there are ever any volunteers in district 7.

"Let's have a hand for Clara Kinking." Yeliza grins. I gaze at the crowd. A feeble round of applause fills the air. "Okay. And now to find the lucky boy."

Again she takes her time, biting her lip, before she picks out a slip of paper. Her dark brown eyes run over the name on the paper a few times before she opens her mouth. "Joey Morel!"

This time it's not quite so silent as when I was reaped. Whispers scuttle through the audience. My gaze falls on the boy in the middle of the sixteen-year-old section. Joey's usually confident smirk has slid off his face, and instead his expression is completely blank. He doesn't make as big of a deal as I did. He glances quickly at the boy next to him, as though needing a look of encouragement, before shuffling up to stage.

It's once he's across from me that his crooked grin resurfaces. Though, I can see the uneasiness in his deep, blue eyes.

* * *

"You should be careful." Mother urges.

"Yes. I know I should be careful."

"And you should make sure to have allies." Dad adds.

"I know."

They both noiselessly stare at me, as though looking at me for the first time in years. Maybe it is the first time in years. Mother runs a hand through my hair, staring at the reddish strands.

"We love you, yes?" she mutters.

"Okay." I nod. I get the first hug I've gotten from my mother in a very long time. I can't help grasping onto her for a moment longer than she holds me, because I want to remember the loving side of her I used to see when I was really little.

They're gone quickly, heading back out into district 7. I wonder what they're going to think about when I'm not at the dinner table tonight.

The door opens again. I know there's only one other person who could possibly want to say goodbye to me; Colin.

His brown eyes are watery. And it takes me a moment to realize the reason he keeps breathing kind of uneven is because he's trying not to cry.

"Colin. I'm going to miss you." I mumble.

"I'm really going to miss you." His voice sounds lower than normal. "And…I've been wanting to tell you…" He swallows.

"What?"

"I've been meaning to tell you that…" He runs a shaky hand through his brown hair, letting out a jagged breath. "I like you a lot."

"I like you too, Colin. You're my best friend."

"No…I mean…I have feelings for you…as in more than a friend."

I gape at Colin. He seems to have relaxed a bit now that the words are out.

"Silence isn't a good sign, is it?" He finally says, sighing. "Whatever. I just wanted you to know."

"I'm not saying I don't like you that way. You just…I never…" How could I have never realized? I'm usually great at reading people. I take in a breath, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Colin. You know there's a very small chance that I'm going to come back?"

He shakes his head. "You just have to hang with the right crowd. People a lot more puny than you have won before."

"But…" I continue staring at him. "I just. I don't want you to get hurt."

He shakes his head again, though this time he remains silent for a while, staring at my lips.

"If I kiss you, will you hate me?"

"No." I whisper. "If you kiss me, are you going to hate me even more if I die?"

"No." He doesn't wait for me to take a step towards him. His lips immediately press against mine, as though he's thought about doing this before.

******District 7: **Joey Morel (16) Pov-

"Oh man…" Kevin heaves a sigh. Tears stream down Tommy's cheeks, silently.

"Come on, guys. A little optimism couldn't hurt. I'm not dead _yet_." I chuckle, though the sound doesn't feel right coming out of my throat.

"Dude. You're Joey Morel. You _can't_ die." Kevin places his hand on my arm. "You're like…I hate to admit it…but you are kind of a legend. And if anyone in district 7 can win these games…it's gonna to be you."

Tommy only nods, sniffling.

"Why are you crying?" Kevin turns to Tommy. "You idiot. We're supposed to make Joey feel better." He elbows the boy in the side.

"I…you…I'm not crying." Tommy chokes out.

"Tommy, man…you can't lie for your life." I smirk. This gets Kevin to let out a roar of laughter, and after a moment Tommy grins. I swallow, realizing how much I'm going to miss my two best friends. I don't dare tell them, though.

"Good luck, okay?" Kevin's voice loses some of the obnoxious attitude it usually holds.

"Thanks."

Tommy sort of falls onto me and slings his arms around my shoulders. It's the first time Tommy has ever hugged me, and I doubt it's ever going to happen again because the end of it is super awkward. He lets go and just stares at me.

"Yeah, okay…" I bite my lip. "Thanks for that, Tommy."

Kevin shares a look with me on the way out. At first just as though to say, "Tommy's a freaking weirdo" but it turns to something softer just before he closes the door. I never thought I'd see anything like pity cross Kevin's face, but I do catch one glimpse of it before he leaves.

"Joey." Katherine's voice fills the room. The woman I spend most of my day avoiding, only forcing myself to sit across from her at dinner. I look at her only for a moment, expecting her face to annoy me like it does. But, for some reason I can't bring myself to hate her as much as I usually can. "I'm so sorry." She whispers.

"It's not your fault." I mutter, looking away from her. Her nervous hands shake as she grasps at the necklace around her neck. She holds that locket every time she feels at all dazed. It used to be my mother's. But, after she died, my father gave it to Katherine. I always thought it looked wrong against her skin. I always thought it wrong that my father had ever loved a woman as much as he loved my mother.

"I know you haven't really wanted to talk to me or have anything to do with me since…" She stops speaking, grasping at the necklace again. She still can't talk about my father's death.

"I didn't want anything to do with you while he was alive." I affirm.

"Yes." Her lips turn down at the sides. I can see her remembering the way I used to ignore her when my father would take us on family outings. I was so set on the idea that Katherine would never be part of our family. Even with the wedding ring on her finger, I still refused to accept it. "I loved your father more than you'll ever understand, Joey. And I could always see how much he loved you. It was always clear that you were the person that mattered most to him in the world." She lets out a long breath, the bottom of her lungs rattling. "Goodbye, Joey." She starts towards the door.

"Wait."

She turns around. My feet shuffle across the cold floor. Standing across from her, I allow myself to really look at her, taking in every emotion that passes across her blue eyes. I carefully wrap my arms around her. Immediately her warm embrace tightens around my shoulders.

There's a lot I want to say. I want to thank her for not leaving me once my father died, for caring for me like I was her own child. I want to apologize for hating her so much. But, nothing comes out. All I can do is hold onto her.

**Answer to last question: Hadley's father's eyes are light green. **

**New Question: How high was the building Joey biked off the roof of?  
**


	9. District 8 Reapings

**District 8: Todd Brown (12) Pov–**

Life at the orphanage really isn't so bad. There's always enough food and a nice bed to sleep in every night. My roommate, Ryes, really isn't so bad, either. Sure, he never talks to me except to tell me to shut up, but I can tell he's a good guy on the inside, and he just needs a few more years of warming up to.

Besides, under my bed I keep stored the old books of my previous roommate. Billy was nice, he didn't really talk to me that much, and he was a good three years older than me, but he would always respond to me when I asked him questions and if I ever had a nightmare he wouldn't tell any of the other boys if I screamed in the night.

He died two years ago, apparently he had a bad heart. But, I think it was because he never ate the food the orphanage served. Two nights before he died, he gave me all his books, and told me they would entertain me for years and that they had worked for him.

The four books are long and challenging. That's why I love them so much. Each time I re-read one there's something new to take from it.

"Boys! You two have to get ready for the reapings." Cicero knocks on the door. He is in charge of all the boys in the orphanage. Cicero is a good guy, but he's like Ryes in that he never shows it.

I follow Ryes out of the door.

"Wow…I'm really nervous. Are you nervous for the reapings?"

He stares straight ahead as though I have never addressed him. When I ask him a second time he mutters a "Piss off" in my direction.

I think he's just angry with the world. I think his parents died, though he never really told me. I just get the vibe that his parents are dead. I'm thankful my parents are still alive. I mean, I never see them or hear from them or anything. But, I don't blame them. I know raising a kid can be really hard, and the orphanage is a good place to give kids that you find too hard to take care of. Anyway, I don't really remember my parents so I can't say that I miss them.

And anyway, life at the orphanage really isn't too bad.

**District 8: Kat Callaghan (15) Pov-**

The reapings always remind me of my brother. Three years ago today I watched Peter get reaped. Getting reaped isn't even something most people can imagine. It doesn't matter that it's a possibility, that doesn't mean it still seems able to happen.

My brother was a goofy sixteen-year-old boy who liked playing pranks with his friends and making my life a living hell. Of course, I always knew he loved me, and he always knew I loved him. And it didn't matter how aggravating he got sometimes, he was still probably the best friend I'll ever have.

I would be lying if I said I didn't want to murder the boy that killed my brother. But, I keep my more hostile thoughts to myself. And only when I really loose control of my temper does anyone know any of the darker thoughts that cross my mind.

As long as no one gets on my nerves, I'm just an average, nice, broke girl from district eight.

"I like your dress." Kim knows not to talk about my brother to me. I'm glad for the distraction. I talk a little bit about how it used to be my mother's, before complimenting her on her gown that drapes past her ankles. And for the moment the conversation may seem forced and fake, but most times I talk with Kim, we only speak of things we really care about.

Kim is my only friend. It's not that she's the only person I eat lunch with at school. She is just the only person that I really ever go out of my way to spend time with. She's in the grade below me, and is exactly one year and three months younger than me. I guess I think of her as my little sister. She's the only person I know who looks up to me figuratively as well as physically.

I stand next to her until the last possible moment, where she has to go to her age group. I slink over to the other fifteen-year-olds, smiling at the few people that glance at me. Most girls offer nervous grins back.

I always get confused between Lola Oriol, district 8's escort, and Laila Overdeen, who has been the mentor for the district 8 tributes since she won twenty-one years ago. She's not like a lot of the hunger games victors. Most come out a changed person, one who speaks, but always says something much more honest and painful behind their eyes. Laila has always seemed a bubbly and easygoing woman, not like she's always hiding an aching mind.

Lola Oriol spends a while speaking. Most of what she says is pretty irrelevant to the games. She's just enjoying being the center of attention for the excerpt of time she's aloud to have on stage.

"You know what? I think I'm going to switch it up. Let's pick our boy first." Lola laughs as though she's just thought of something exceptionally clever. She carefully picks out a boy's name. Her drawn eyebrows wiggle as she licks her lips. "Todd Brown!"

**District 8: Todd Brown (12) Pov–**

I always thought if I ever got reaped I would cry. But crying is for the things that are small enough to irritate your tear glands. Getting reaped makes the stakes too high. Instead all I can manage to do is stare through eyes that don't seem like my own.

My legs move me to stage. Though, I don't feel like I'm moving them. I'm just wondering what it's going to feel like when I die. I know I'm going to die. There will be no more talking to Ryes, there will be no more reading.

Lola frowns when she sees me. Sure some of the boys looks relieved, but the only mutual expression most of the audience seems to have is one of pity. I'm just another scrawny twelve-year-old boy. A twelve-year-old has never won the hunger games. And despite the pitying air, no one steps up and volunteers.

"Well…that's…Todd Brown everyone!" She clears her throat, fishing for a girl's name. I wait patiently, letting my arms fall to my sides limply. "Kim Lindern!"

A short redhead takes a few shaky steps towards the stage. Some blonde girl pushes past the other girls around her, so she can grab onto the first girl.

"I volunteer!" The blonde calls. I watch her whisper something to the first girl; she remains composed when she addresses the redhead. There is really no doubt they know each other very well. And if they didn't look so drastically different I might guess they were siblings.

"Well, come on up to stage then." Lola calls, beckoning the girl onto stage. "What's your name?"

"Kat Callaghan." The girl says.

"Shake hands, then." Lola whispers in my ear.

Kat grasps my hand in hers. Her soft, caramel brown eyes lock into my hazel ones. She gets one good look at me, and trace of a smile flickers on her lips. I can tell it's a smile to comfort me. She knows I'm going to die, too.

Two peacekeepers escort me to the justice building. I wait inside the small room, staring at the gray door, expecting to see Cicero or Ryes run in. But, no one comes to say goodbye.

**District 8: Kat Callaghan (15) Pov-**

"I'm never going to forgive you, Kat. If you don't come back…" Tears stream down her cheeks. I remain silent. "You have to win, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." I lick my lips, attempting to moisten the chapped skin. Kim hugs me; I pat her red hair down telling her not to worry.

My mother comes in next. She isn't crying. Her eyelids droop at the side, as though she longs to close her eyes. She has looked this tired ever since Peter died. I don't want to look at her. I don't want to see how much I'm hurting my mother by leaving. And ever since my father died, it has just been my mother and me. If I don't win, she's going to be alone.

"I did it for Kim. She wouldn't make it past the bloodbath." I mutter.

"I know why you did it."

"I'm sorry."

"I know." She takes my hand, and grasps onto it while she stares at me, taking in the blonde of my hair, the distinct light brown of my eyes. I suppose she's just trying not to forget me.

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make it back to you." I whisper.

**Answer to last question: T****he building Joey biked off the roof of was four stories high. **

**New Question: What was Todd's old roommate's name?  
**


	10. District 9 Reapings

**District 9: Clarity May (17) Pov-**

I hate my father.

Some people might assume I'm one of those dramatic teens that gets so caught up in her angst that she blames her parents for everything.

But, I hate my father for plausible reasons. My father is a sick, twisted man. He has done things no man should be forgiven for. But, most people think he's a good guy. Only because he knows how to smile that fake grin, making him look like an honest, hardworking guy who understands the pain and labor so many people in my district go through.

I can assure to anyone that the reason my father is mayor is only because of his manipulative behavior, not because he has any real sympathy or care for district 9.

I wake up at about the same time as the sun. I make sure I'm up before my mother because I don't want to worry her with making breakfast for me. I grab a piece of dry bread and snack on it as I leave my house. I wrap my dark jacket around my shoulders, running out into the early morning streets of district 9.

I sprint around to the back entrance to the village bakery. I open the trash can, and pull out the two silver swords. I keep them hear because no one ever cleans out this trashcan. The baker leaves it so the poor might have some burned loaves, and the hungry never look to the bottom to find the two weapons. The first piece of bread they get their hands on is always enough.

I hide the swords under my shirt and sprint towards the large forest just past the main square. There are hardly any animals in the forest. So, I feel completely alone as I let the two swords drop to the soil. I pick up one and hurl it as hard as I can at the tree across from me.

A loud _thwack_ echoes through the forest. I smile, taking the next sword in my hand. I let it balance on my palm for a moment, watching the sunlight dance against the blade before sprinting towards a tall tree a few yards away from me. I hit the tree's side, watching some wood fall onto the ground; I give another whack against the trunk. A whimper catches my ear. I immediately get very quiet and still. A small rabbit hops away from the tree.

I bring my sword down on its ear so it can't run away. I know a lot of people who are in desperate need of meet. I shove the rabbit in my bag, and rush back to the bakery trash to hide my swords.

Today I decide the rabbit should go to the Mendin family. They're probably one of the poorest families in the district, because Mr. Mendin refuses to let his children sign up for tesserae. I knock on their door. Mr. Mendin answers, looking tired yet happy to see me. I hand him my whole bag.

"Happy reapings day." I mutter. I don't wait for him to look. He knows I've caught him something because this isn't the first time. I always try to help out the poorer people in the district.

I hurry back to my house and get back into my room before my mother knocks on my door telling me it's time to wake up.

**District 9: Mikey Jonah (15) Pov-**

"Well, what exactly is it?" I ask, giving the small container of pills a shake.

"I already told you, it's stuff to make you feel good." Leo shrugs.

"But, what is it made of? I don't want anything that's going to mess me up a lot."

"Yeah…the reapings are in about an hour. And the peacekeepers might get angry." Tim adds.

"I don't really care about the peacekeepers." I turn back to Leo. "I just know if my mom sees me all weird she's going to get pissed. And you know what happens when my mom gets pissed."

"Oh boy. I'm never going to forget." Tim shudders, nodding

"Don't worry," Leo says, "I got it from one of my brother's friends. He only has the best, cleanest stuff on him. You guys will be okay."

Leo and Tim have been my best friends since I started school. We're about as different as three fourteen-year-olds can get, and yet I don't get along with anyone better than them. Tim's your average smarty-pants, who worries constantly about everything. Leo is all reckless and is always getting us into trouble, and I'm just along to crack jokes and have some fun. We make a pretty good team, if you ask me.

"Okay. If you guys are so scared I'll take one first." Leo rolls his eyes, reaching for the container in my hands.

"Oh, _please_. I'm not scared." I scoff, unscrewing the top, and letting two pills fall into my palm, before dropping them into my mouth and swallowing. I give a few coughs, feeling the capsules crawl down my throat. "All done." I comment, grinning. Leo gapes at me, running a hand through his short red hair. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I screw the cap back on.

"You were only supposed to take one." Leo murmurs.

"One?" I freeze.

"Yeah, one. You took two."

"You're joking right?"

"No." Leo slowly reaches for the container in my hand, still staring at me.

"Why the _hell_ didn't you tell me?"

Leo shrugs. "I was going to, but you just did it so quick."

"Not really. You could have told me as I was putting them into my hand instead of just standing there." I let out a deep breath, banging my head against the brown bricks to the building we're situated behind. I bring my head to my hands and just take in a few breaths.

"Are you okay?" Tim's voice is soft and hesitant. I shrug.

"I'm sorry." Leo finally says. "I won't do that again."

"Well, it won't really matter if you do it again because I'm going to be _dead._"

"You're not going to die. And stop being so dramatic, you're sounding like a girl." Leo mumbles.

"Yeah…that's what happens when you get a girlfriend. You start to turn all girly." Tim chuckles.

"I'm not girly." I frown. "You guys are just jealous I'm the one that girls like."

"Oh please, girls are gross. I don't need anyone who giggles all the time to complete me. I'm just the way I want to be right now." Leo crosses his arms. "So, are you feeling anything?" He eyes me closely, as if expecting me to turn blue or something.

"Actually, I feel completely normal."

"Really?" Tim looks me over.

"Yeah. I'm starting to think the pills are just crap. I bet they're just sleeping pills or something." I smirk. "Your brother ripped you off, dude."

Leo squints, and his eyebrows come together in a slightly peeved expression. "Come on, let's get to the reapings, already."

After walking for a few minutes, I know I'm coming up. The buildings around me suddenly look so much bigger, and the sky is so deep I'm sure if I'm not careful it's going to suck me in.

After a while the large, looming architecture becomes a bit too overwhelming. And this guy I don't like who looks a lot like my English teacher keeps popping out of the sky and telling me my poetry assignment is due at the end of class.

"I'll hand it in tomorrow!" I shout, sinking to the floor, so I can grasp onto the gravel while I crawl, making sure the sky doesn't pull me in.

Someone keeps poking me in the back, and I close my eyes really tight, sure if I don't look they can't hurt me.

"Mikey, dude, look at me!"

I open one eyelid, getting a glimpse at the two boys gaping down at me. Leo's eyes look much more detailed and I can see the red veins that run across the surface as his irises move. I attempt to speed-crawl away from him and his freaky eyes, only making the gravel scrape against my wrists. The two boys' voices follow me.

"This is your fault, Leo. You should never have let him take those pills. He's freaking turned…insane…what if he dies? Then what? Then we're going to be the murderers-"

"He's not going to die. He's just going to be high as hell for the next few hours. And we just got to make sure no one notices."

"Mikey!" Tim shouts, creeping over to me as though he's afraid he's going to scare me away. "You need to stand up, okay?" He offers out a hand. I take it slowly, and he helps me to my feet. I try to explain to him that Mr. Rella keeps popping out of the sky, but he tells me everything is okay. I grab onto his sleeve, thinking maybe Tim knows where we are and what's going on. I don't like Leo because he keeps cursing and making me nervous.

We arrive in a very crowded square. Tim shoves me towards this guy who grabs my hand and shoves a needle in it.

I shriek, snapping my hand away.

Leo seizes my arm, pulling me towards a large group of boys I recognize from school. I sigh, realizing this is probably why Mr. Rella kept popping out of the clouds; he was telling me to get to the poetry readings on time.

Leo reaches into his pocket and after asking why my eyes are all watery, insists I wear his sunglasses until the reapings are over. I let him slide the shades on my face, wondering why Leo is talking about the reapings. Aren't they next week?

I watch a girl, who I'm quite sure is a whole two grades above me walk up to stage. She looks pretty shaken as she walks up the steps, her fists clenched, but I figure she's just one of those people who gets nervous when she reads her poetry aloud. I stare at my shoes, trying to remember my poem.

**District 9: Clarity May (17) Pov-**

I'm a genius when it comes to hiding my emotions. I don't let any of the hurt that pushes against my eyes spill. My lips remain pressed together in an indifferent line.

District 9's escort, Linda Pine, appears very pleased as she looks me over. I know I'm one of the older and stronger girls in district 9. I find my eyes drawn to the Drake Auspice who has worked as district 9's mentor for the past 7 years. He's in his mid-twenties by now. His face, undeniably handsome when he won at 17, now looks somehow unkempt and disoriented. He doesn't smile when he catches my eye, he only gives me a somewhat pissed off glance. I return it, before flashing a smile at the cameras.

"Any volunteers?" Linda asks.

I anticipate the silence, knowing no one will volunteer. "Great! Then Clarity May is officially tribute!"

I'm surprised at the volume in the applause. I suppose I don't look like one of those emotional wrecks that usually end up as tribute. Standing at 5' 9'' is sure to make me one of the taller girls. And I have to admit that my glowing green eyes against my pale white skin and dark hair help me in the looks department.

"Now I think it's time to pick a boy…" Linda smiles. She already has a small piece of paper tucked between her thumb and her pointer finger. I suppose I was too distracted by the crowd. She unfolds the slip of paper, "Mikey Jonah!" She calls.

I skim the audience for a perplexed, pained expression. The only thing I notice is some blonde boy pushing through every section, taking the most indirect route to stage.

As he twists past the last section, I hear him murmur, "Excuse me" and "Sorry" to the confused twelve-year-olds. He sort of stumbles onto stage, looking a little unbalanced as he straightens his shirt. He pulls the sunglasses away from his light blue eyes for a moment, just to stare at me.

"You're in my class?" He asks.

I remain silent for a moment, extremely confused. "No?" I eventually answer. He shrugs, letting the sunglasses fall over his eyes again, and ruffling his bright blonde hair quickly with his right hand. He has a kind of annoying confident air to him, and I figure his weird entrance and question was his way of showing he's one of those cool guys.

"Any volunteers?" Linda asks. As her eyes fan across the crowd, the boy walks up behind her, and grabs the microphone right from her hand.

"Hi. My poem is called 'The Night Sky'." Mikey clears his throat, his voice reverberating through the silent audience. "The silver moon doesn't shine bright like it used to. Instead it…oh wait…hold on…oh crap. I think I forgot…"

Drake nudges me in the side. "What the hell is wrong with this kid?"

I shrug, turning back to see Linda lay a comforting hand on the boys shoulder. She gently tries to coax the microphone from his grasp.

"I wasn't done…" he mutters, still holding onto the handle, then looks up at the sky fretfully. "Mr. Rella…I promise I actually did the homework…" Linda finally gets the microphone away from the boy, and lets out a nervous laugh.

"District 9, I give you our tributes for the 100th hunger games!"

* * *

My father slides into the room. His feet hardly seem to touch the floor. He holds my mother's hand, and rests his fingers on her shoulder like he cares about her feelings. I know he doesn't.

"Clarity." My father runs his tongue across his bottom lip. "You be careful now. You don't want to make me and your mother upset."

I remain silent, staring into my father's eyes.

My mother takes two shaky steps towards me, collapsing into my arms. I hold her, still keeping my mouth shut. She strings many words together, not making any sense. Eventually she gets out how much she loves me. My father grabs her arms, pulling her onto her feet.

"Come on, Catt." My father murmurs into her ear. "We must leave our daughter now. There's nothing more we can do for her."

As soon as my mother is facing towards the door, I smile at my father. I mirror his sickening grin. And I think from the way his expression freezes he knows exactly what it means.

I know everything.

And if I make it back I'm not going to let him keep getting away with what he's doing. My father or not, he deserves what's coming for him.

**District 9: Mikey Jonah (15) Pov-**

"April told me to tell you that she's breaking up with you." Leo rests a hand on my shoulder.

"Why?" I ask.

"Uh…because you just acted like a complete idiot in front of the whole of Panem."

I squint at him, and then remember the sunglasses are making the already dark room darker, so I take them off. "You mean the whole of Panem was taping Mr. Rella's poetry class?"

"Mikey. We're not at school. You got reaped. You're going to be in the hunger games." Tim says this to me like he's about to cry. He bites his lip.

I shake my head. "I don't understand. Why…why is this all so confusing?"

Tim sighs. "The stupid pills." He grimaces. "Mikey, I'm really going to miss you."

"Are you being serious? I actually got reaped?"

"Yeah, man. And we're really sorry." Leo's voice is just above a whisper. "And I think that maybe when you're not so high you got a chance to win this."

Next in is Mom. She is closely followed by Dad and my little sister, Nelly. Mom looks like she's going to kill someone. I frown realizing that someone is probably going to be me. She grabs onto my shoulders. I clench my eyes shut.

"Mikey? What is wrong with you? Was that some type of joke with the…" She stares at me, then runs a hand across my cheek. "Are you on something?"

"Uh…I don't understand."

She shakes her head letting out a deep sigh. The next thing I know she's hugging me so hard I think I'm going to pass out.

"It's okay, baby. I forgive you. Boys will be boys, right?" Her voice is strained. "I don't care that you make mistakes. You can make as many mistakes as you want, Mikey. Just win the games. None of us care what you have to do to win, or how many mistakes you make in the process. All we care is about seeing you again."

**Only 3 more reapings to go! **

**Answer to last question: Todd's old roommate's name was Billy. **

**New Question: What color is Leo's hair?**


	11. District 10 Reapings

**District 10: Halley Morris (15) Pov-**

I plan on sleeping in this morning, but Joey wakes me up. He doesn't mean to be loud when he gets out of bed, but his squeaky bedsprings always manage to pull me out of my slumber.

I glance at the clock: 5:30. Joey only wakes up this early when he's sick or worried. I sit up, pushing my brown hair out of my face, watching Joey grab his shoes from beside his bed.

"Where are you going?" I ask, bringing my hand to my lips, in an attempt to stifle a yawn.

Joey looks surprised to see that I'm awake. "I can't sleep. I thought I'd go for a walk."

"Alone?" I frown. "You shouldn't be going out on your own."

"I'm going to be seven in three months. I think I can manage taking a quick stroll by myself." Joey's mouth twists into a slightly annoyed frown.

"I'll come with you. Just…tell me why you can't sleep."

Joey purses his lips together, remaining silent.

"Come on, you can tell me." Joey sighs. After another moment, I add, "I promise not to laugh if it's a stupid reason."

"I guess I just…I'm worried for the reapings." His voice is soft, as though he's guilty.

"You're worried? You don't have to worry about them for another 6 years, kiddo."

"Not for myself…for you." He whispers.

I sit still for a moment, mulling over Joey's words. I don't want to tell him I won't get reaped, because no one ever knows. Eventually I toss the covers off my legs, and jump to my feet, ignoring the fact that I shouldn't have to wake up for at least another five hours. I grab my boots and pull them on, and then take my sweater that hangs on my bedpost, slipping it over my pajama top.

"Come on…I think I know something to cheer you up." I say, as I open our bedroom door. Joey slips behind me, quietly creeping out of the house. Once the morning air reaches my face, I grab Joey's hand and pull him down an alleyway.

I think Joey knows where we're going.

I used to walk these backstreets a couple times a week, and end up at the back entrance to the bakery. I used to have to steel bread to keep Dad and myself alive. But, that was before Dad married the monster. Oh, sorry, right…I always forget the monster has a name: Rebecca. Although, there is one good thing that came from their relationship: Joey is her son. I don't understand how the two are related. Sure, they have the same light blonde hair and green eyes, but Joey is sweet, calm and generous. Rebecca is evil. I guess Joey's like his father. Though, I never hear much about his dad. I understand people don't like to talk about dead parents. I haven't spoken of my mother in years.

Even though I don't have to steel from the baker anymore, I still do probably once a month. There's something calming about grabbing that one loaf of bread, and sticking it under my sweater. I suppose I like it so much because I'm actually good at it. Steeling is one of my talents. I've never gotten caught. Also, I know Joey loves the taste of the white bread from the bakery. It's more expensive than the bread we can afford, so sometimes I end up swiping some just to see the smile on Joey's face as he chews the soft pastry.

"Now, just wait outside and be quiet." I whisper as we arrive at the bakers. The lights aren't on inside, and the silence that envelops the streets of district 10 tells me there isn't actually any reason to worry about being quiet. I see the back window, covered in a thick layer of soot, is a little less than a centimeter open. I stick my pinky in the hole; the window slides open a few more inches. Once I can fit my hand inside, I open the window with ease.

The bakery has a soft morning darkness settling over the room. I climb through the window, landing with an almost inaudible thud. I don't dwindle around too long, I just take a moment to pick the loaf I want before jumping out of the window, and closing the window to the exact way it was before I arrived.

I rip the loaf in half, handing Joey a chunk.

We walk a good few minutes away, before finding an isolated alley. I take a seat on the dirty ground, and Joey, after a moment's hesitation, plops down beside me.

"Don't worry about the reapings, okay?" I say, after finishing my half. Joey is still working on his; he chews slowly and thoughtfully as though planning to savor every bite.

"Just don't get reaped." He mutters. His small hand grabs the hem of my sweater. "I promise not to worry if you promise not to get reaped."

I chuckle, flicking a couple of crumbs off of my lap. I want to make that promise to him. But, I can't. I would never break a promise to Joey.

**District 10: Friesian Wade (14) Pov-**

The ranch is always its ugliest in the morning. That's saying a lot, because the ranch is one ugly place. Filled with hideous cows that moan and piss and crap all day. I have to clean up after them and make sure they're eating and not dead. I really would rather they just die, because they're all so ugly and fat.

I lean my palms against the fence, glaring at Mandy. Her sleek black coat is what makes her stand out. She stares into my eyes, as though she's about to open her mouth and start speaking. Instead yellow liquid trickles down her leg with a hiss. I groan.

"You're disgusting, you know that?"

A rather heated moo answers me.

"Oh, grow up." I roll my eyes, heading back into the house. Normande and Holstein are sitting at the table, playing a game of cards. I glare at my two older brothers. Normande is a few months away from 19, and as the oldest he's in charge of Holstein and me. Mom and Dad died a few years back. I just wish they hadn't died so I wouldn't have been left with these two boneheads.

"Morning, Friesian." Holstein looks up at me. "Don't you look like a bright ray of sunshine this morning."

"Shut up." I spit, pouring myself a glass of water.

"The morning chores get to you?" Normande asks, through a chuckle. My two older brothers always make fun of me when it's my turn to do the ranch chores in the morning. I hate the ranch more than anyone else in our family.

I sit next to Normande and watch the two continue their card game. I sip on my water. The two conveniently ignore me.

"What time should we head over to the reapings, you think?" Normande asks Holstein.

"I think we still have time for one more game." Holstein shrugs.

For the next fifteen minutes I stare at my two brothers, as they talk about idiotic stuff like girlfriends and everything else that makes them stupid. After a while, Holstein turns to me.

"So, Friesian…any girls caught your eyes?"

Normande chuckles, as I shake my head.

"It's all right, little bro." He gives me a pat on the shoulder. "Not all girls want guys with good-looks. I'm sure there's some girl out there who will love you for who you are…someday."

"You're not exactly beautiful, either." I mutter. It's true. None of the Wade family is particularly good-looking.

But, I don't like good looks. I find that all the attractive people are jerks that get everything they need because of the way they look and therefore can't actually do anything for themselves in the end. Anyway, I'm not hideous, or anything.

I've just learned how to survive on my own.

**District 10: Halley Morris (15) Pov-**

Felicity Ray has long golden hair that looks like vomit. I don't exactly know how that's possible since I've never seen golden vomit before, but it just is that way it is. Felicity doesn't own her name very well. She's just about the most depressed woman I've ever laid eyes on. I cannot figure out how she possibly became district 10's escort. She hardly says anything. Just reminds the audience about the rules for the games this year.

She heaves a long sigh, taking a step away from the microphone. "I suppose I should reap our girl now." The crowd remains silent as she slinks over to the bowl filled with girls' names. She quickly picks the first name her fingers find.

I turn around and see Dad, Rebecca and Joey standing with the other families. I smile at Dad and give an extra wink to Joey, just to show him everything is going to be okay. Even though I know my name is in that bowl more than a lot of girls my age. The chances are still so small.

"Halley Morris."

I freeze, my eyes fastened on Felicity. She tries out a smile, which only makes her tired face look more exhausted. I press my lips together as I slink up to stage. The walk seems long, and with every pitying face, my feet feel heavier.

I don't even listen when Felicity asks for volunteers. There isn't one friend who likes me enough to kill themselves for my life. I'm not offended by the silence. I only lick my lips once, and watch Felicity pick a boy's name.

"Friesian Wade." She mutters into the microphone.

A guy emerges from the fourteen-year-old section. He saunters up to stage, and gives me a glare.

Well, at least my district partner appears to be a joyful fellow.

He's tall for his age, and his thickset build only makes him more intimidating. His large nose protrudes from his face, and he crosses his arms, staring out at the audience. When no on volunteers for him, his face turns a faint red, and the veins on his neck pop out somewhat. He doesn't need to say anything for me to understand he's angry. I offer him a consoling smile when I shake his hand. He doesn't look me in the eyes, but his handshake is so strong it leaves my hand tingling.

* * *

Joey sprints into the justice building. His shoes patter against the grey tiles and he throws his arms around me. His small body shakes with sobs.

"Hey, kiddo, it's okay." I say, patting him on the back.

"No." He shakes his head and looks up at me. Tears stain his cheeks. "I don't want you to go." He grasps onto my dress, his hands in tiny fists.

"I have to, Joey. But, I promise you're going to be okay. Your mother and my father are going to take good care of you." I send a glance to my father, who nods and moves forward to rest a hand on Joey's shoulder.

People say I look like Dad. We share the same pale skin, and blue eyes. Though, I got my mother's hair. And then I have a sprinkle of freckles across my cheeks. Dad always says that's what is unique to myself. I didn't get my freckles from him or my mother.

Dad attempts to hug me while Joey still clings to my dress.

**District 10: Friesian Wade (14) Pov-**

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?" I shout as soon as Normande and Holstein enter the room. "Why didn't you guys volunteer?"

"I'm sorry…" Holstein bites his lip. "I just…"

"We thought you would be able to win…you're strong and smart and all." Normande finishes.

I shake my head. I know that Normande had told Holstein if Holstein got reaped he would volunteer for him. "I hate you guys."

"Hey, that's not exactly a fair thing to say." Holstein frowns.

"Get out." I whisper, motioning towards the door. My older brothers share a look with each other. I think Normande tries to tell me something, but I turn my back to him and cover my ears with my hands. The only thought that consoles me is that when I come back I'll be rich and famous and they'll still be working at the ranch.

**So, there we have district 10! **

**Answer to last question: Leo's hair is red. **

**New Question: How old is Normande?**


	12. District 11 Reapings

**District 11: Riley Kramer (17) Pov-**

The wind races through the trees, emanating a soft, melodic hum. I tap my hands against my knees, and watch the branches swerve through the air, pitching forward and backwards, showing off their elegance. I tip my head back, and allow my bronze hair to tickle my elbows.

I drop my arms back and tap my feet against the grass, feeling the beat in my chest.

I come to the forest to dance sometimes on the windy mornings. This is when the music of the forest is the loudest, and no one is ever around to watch me.

Sometimes I think in a perfect world I'll get to just be a dancer. I heard that in the old days people could have jobs where all they did was dance. But, nowadays the only famous dancers are the fake capitol women who do everything for the money and the men.

"Bravo!" Someone claps from behind me. I spin around, raising a brow at my older brother.

"What, so now you're spying on me?" I ask.

Scorpio folds his hands across his chest.

"I just wanted to know where you go by yourself in the mornings. I thought for sure you were going to be with a boy."

I shake my head.

"I should have known you'd just be dancing." He smiles. "Why do you always hide? You should show how good you are to other people."

I shake my head, pulling my hair into a ponytail. "People in district 11 don't have time to watch a kid dance."

"Well, you should make time for it." Scorpio says. I let out a sigh. My older brother has always been the rational one, he should know it doesn't matter how good someone is at something. In district 11 everyone is the same immobilized, helpless laborer. And there's nothing they can do to change it.

I let out a chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just so outlandish, really. We're working in the fields by the time we're twelve, and yet there's absolutely no reason for even the smartest people to go about their various endeavors because they're never going to obtain anything or get anywhere other than district 11."

"There are ways to leave." Scorpio says. "They're usually not worth it, though."

"I suppose. The easy way out is through the games."

"The easy way out is dying in the games." Scorpio mutters. He has his lips pressed together. I can tell he's thinking about Alaric.

**District 11: Falcon Dide (18) Pov-**

"Where are you going? You're not supposed to be working today." My father places his glass on the table, his grey eyes focused on me.

"I'm just going out." I answer, slipping my sweater on over my head.

"No you are not going out." He mutters. "You can go fix the window in my bedroom if you have nothing to do."

I freeze, my hand already on the doorknob. "You can do that yourself, you know."

"But you're going to do it."

I turn around and smile at my father. "No. I'm not."

In a matter of seconds strong hands are slamming me against the front door, and I get a strong slap in the face. My father stares at me for a moment, the veins in his neck getting dangerously large. I imagine them breaking through his skin.

"Is that the best you can do?" I ask, pushing his hands off me. This time I get a real punch in the face.

"You're going to fix the window. Then you're going to clean up this house until the floors shimmer. Then you're going to go to the reapings."

I glare at my father. "You know I hate you, right?"

"That's great to hear." He rolls his eyes.

"You can't make me do anything." I whisper, and before he can grab onto me I slip outside and slam the door behind me.

I head over to the reapings early, and stand in the middle of the village square, watching the few peacekeepers that litter the place get the space set up.

Once the rest of the teenagers begin to fill the square, most make a point to stand far away from me. People tend to avoid me after the…incident.

It's not like I care, anyway. I get by well on my own and I don't need friends.

I zone out when district 11's escort, Fanny Gilbert, starts talking. I just imagine her having a heart attack and dying on stage. That would be funny. I let out a soft chuckle and the boy in front of my jumps, taking a few steps away from me.

"What a loon." He mutters.

"What did you call me?" I raise a brow.

"You're a loon, crazy, insane…there are a lot of words for-"

I shove the boy to the ground, bringing my fist to his temple. Some of the surrounding guys haul me off the boy before I can do more harm. A peacekeeper puts his hand on my shoulder, and tells me to stand still. He whispers that I can beat up anyone I want once the reapings are over.

I glare up at Fanny just as she draws a girl's name.

"Isolde Ilivone."

A girl emerges from the twelve-year-old section, and even before she reaches the stage tears are pouring down her cheeks.

"I volunteer!" A voice shouts. I, along with the rest of district 11, search for the source. A girl from the seventeen-year-old section walks up to stage. I have to admit she's something to look at. Long bronze hair cascades down her back, and her skin is healthy and tanned. Her athletic build tells me she's not just one of those useless pretty girls.

"What's your name?" Fanny asks the girl.

"Riley Kramer."

Kramer. She's Riley Kramer? The girl who was born in the games. That name has been thrown around so many times, and yet until now I've never been able to place the name to a face.

I chuckle again because of the irony.

**District 11: Riley Kramer (17) Pov-**

I had to volunteer for Isolde. She's such a sweet girl, and going into the games would mean certain death for her. I don't regret saving her life. I can only hope that my father and brother will forgive me for volunteering.

Fanny Gilbert can't stop grinning and staring at me. She's just excited that district 11 finally has a volunteer. I think it's been something like twenty-seven years. Though, it's been 64 years since someone from district 11 actually won. All I can do is hope that it won't make 65.

"I think it's time to pick a boy." Fanny finally looks away from me. She plunges her hand into the bowl, drawing a neatly folded piece of paper from the very bottom. "Falcon Dide."

Whispers run through the crowd. Falcon Dide is probably the most well known eighteen-year-old in district 11. He also happens to be the most detested. And usually I feel remorse for the people that nobody likes. But, there's no way I can feel sorry for a boy who killed his own brother.

Falcon makes his way onto stage, his feet sliding across the cobblestones slowly. He glowers at Fanny, then at me, crossing his arms in front of his body. His dark hair falls in front of his icy grey eyes. No one volunteers for him.

My father and Scorpio both look completely devastated when they enter the justice building. The Kramer's don't have the best relationship to the games, so I can't exactly blame their lugubrious appearances. I've lost two family members to the games. First my mother, then my older brother, Alaric. The death of Alaric changed my father from the cheerful, affectionate man I remember, to this quiet man, always distancing himself.

"Riley." My father takes my hands in his rough, calloused palms. "Remember that in the games you don't have to be stronger than anyone. You just have to be smarter. And you have such a clever mind. Use it, okay?"

"I promise I will." I say. "And I don't want you to worry about me too much, okay? I've been watching this game for seventeen years now. I think I know a thing or two about how to play."

**District 11: Falcon Dide (18) Pov-**

My father doesn't come to see me. I know it's stupid, but part of me hoped he would come and I would be able to tell him how I was sorry about Kai and that I never meant to kill him. And even though I've told my father countless times that it was an accident, I hoped maybe this time he would actually listen to me.

But he doesn't come. And I don't blame him. I hate myself, too.

**Sorry it's been so long since the last update. But, district 12's reapings should be up this week. And then it's time for you guys to PM me about which partners you want for your tribute! **

**Answer to last question: Normande is 18 years old.  
**

**Next Question: What is Falcon's brother's name?  
**


	13. District 12 Reapings

**District 12: Hunter Knight (15) Pov-**

"Okay, now keep _really_ quiet." I whisper.

"You don't actually think this is going to work, Hunter. Do you?" Reyna asks.

"It's going to work." Flint mutters.

"Yes. I've been working at this for the past week." I smile as I see Adrian Millet strolling down the street. He's got his hands shoved in his pockets, wearing his normal cocky grin. "This is going to be hilarious." I mouth to Flint and Reyna. I pull the tooth from my pocket, and toss it out of the bush we're hiding behind. The tooth was a gift from Reyna. Her little brother just lost it.

Adrian stops walking as the tooth hits his foot. His eyebrows come together as he reaches down to touch it. As soon as his fingers come in contact with the tooth, I jump out of the bush and situate myself right behind the boy. He stands up, slowly straightening his back. I clear my throat, and as soon as he sees me he jumps backwards.

"Where did you come from?" He asks, the concern in his voice evident.

"Didn't you call me?"

"No. I…uh." He takes a step away from me, looking back down at the tooth. "It's true? You're actually the…"

I wait for him to choke out the word. But, he seems unable to do so.

"You have to remember it's a secret and you can't tell anyone." I whisper.

"I promise your secret is safe with me. And if you ever need anything, I'm at your service."

I wait until Adrian has turned the corner, before turning to where Flint and Reyna now jump up from behind the shrub.

"Unbelievable." Flint says, shaking his head.

"What did I tell you guys?"

"I'm still confused. So, basically you've tricked him into thinking you're the tooth fairy and every time anyone comes in contact with a human tooth you pop up out of thin air?"

"Exactly."

"Unbelievable." Flint repeats.

"Thank you." I lean forward in a bow. "Now I believe you two both owe me a loaf of bread."

Flint rolls his eyes. "You didn't actually think I would be able to afford a whole loaf of bread."

"Hey, it was part of the deal." I mutter. "If I make someone over the age of thirteen believe in the tooth fairy, you guys both buy me one loaf of bread."

"Wait a month and maybe I'll be able to hook you up with one." Reyna says, smirking.

"Fine." I groan, putting my hands over my stomach. "I suppose I'll just have to survive hungry for another month."

Flint gives me a friendly punch in the arm. "Welcome to the club."

"Man…" Reyna turns to stare at me. "I never knew Adrian was that stupid."

"I always did." I grin. "You can tell from the way his jaw moves when he talks."

Reyna snorts. "You always notice the weirdest things."

I shrug. Flint's hand grasps Reyna's, and they share a look. It's that boyfriend-girlfriend look.

I've been best friends with Flint and Reyna since I started school. And they only just started dating a few months ago. Mostly it's okay, but sometimes they get all weird and intimate and then I figure it's time for me to go take a walk by myself.

"Well, I'll see you guys later. I'm just going to…go and…go over there." I motion vaguely down the street.

"Yeah. See you at the reapings, right?"

"You bet." I smile, and hurry across the sullied streets of district 12.

**District 12: Kasey Spalik (16) Pov- **

District 12 always looks depressing, even on the beautiful spring day that happens to be the reapings.

I get to the reapings as late as possible, so I don't have to stand around and listen to the other girls my age get all worried and annoying.

I slip next to Eleanor as I arrive and offer her the only smile I've handed out all day. Eleanor is my only friend. I don't much like people in general. I think people are frustrating and selfish. But Eleanor is an exception.

District 12's escort, Midnight Lacie, is just as depressing as district 12. She wears a despondent expression even when she talks about how exciting this year is going to be. I pay very close attention to every word she says, and with every pause I find something dreadful about either the way she has phrased her sentences or the way her accent drowns her words.

Eleanor's hand brushes against my arm. "Don't worry." She whispers.

"I'm not worried." I answer. She should remember when I think about the reapings I don't get worried or sad because of what happened to my sister. I just get angry.

"I would like to take this time to pick our female tribute." Midnight attempts to smile, but her slim cheeks turn it into a grimace. Most girls throughout the audience hold their breath. I just watch Midnight plunge her hand into the bowl full of girls names and I think about how much I hate her fingers. It was her carefully manicured fingernails that held that piece of paper with my sister's name on it. "Kasey Spalik."

I take a few steps forward, glaring at Midnight. I think about how this has to be a joke. But, I don't freak out like some of the other girls have. I make the trek up to stage, and on the way make a point to glower at anyone who looks my way. Midnight rests a hand on my shoulder as I stand beside her. I flick her hand off me, recoiling.

"You have to ask for volunteers." I hiss. She looks taken aback for a moment.

"Yes…of course." She lets out a deep breath. "Any volunteers?"

The longer the silence goes on for, the more anger fills my chest. I glare at the pitying faces staring up at me. Why doesn't one of the eighteen-year-olds suck up their fear and volunteer for me?

"Okay, then. Kasey is officially our female tribute. Let's have a round of applause!"

The sick thing is that a couple of people clap.

**District 12: Hunter Knight (15) Pov-**

Kasey looks like one cold girl. She just stands on stage, her hands lying limply at her sides, and glares out at the crowd, her long dark brown hair blowing slightly in the wind. When I look up at the screen I can see her silver-blue eyes focused on the camera, a hate so strong inside of them. I look away quickly.

"Okay. I'm going to pick a boy now if that's okay with everyone." Midnight doesn't wait for an answer from the crowd. She closes her eyes as she picks a name, as though having to prove that she can't tell whom she's choosing. She waits to open her eyes until she's unfolded the small piece of paper. "Hunter Knight."

Flint takes a sharp breath. His whole body seems to freeze, and the next thing I know he's gripping onto my arm, and whispering into my ear, "I got this, dude. I can take your place."

"No." I murmur.

"Hunter Knight?" Midnight repeats.

"Right here!" I stumble through the other fifteen-year-olds so I can make my way up to stage. I don't really know where to look when I get onto stage. After glancing once at Kasey, who glares back at me, I try doing her thing of staring at the cameras, but that gets kind of awkward, so I try turning my attention towards the crowd, but all the sad faces I get back make me uncomfortable.

* * *

Reyna throws her arms around me, sobbing into my shirt. "Oh man, I'm going to miss you." She whispers.

"It's okay." I pat her on the shoulder. "It's not like I'm for _sure_ going to die."

"You know you could have let me volunteer for you." Flint mumbles from behind Reyna.

"That would be messed up." I tell him. "And anyway, it's not as though I'm _completely_ idiotic. I have a pretty rational head on my shoulders. We all know I'm better of than those kids who get themselves killed before the games even begin. Remember that boy last year?" I'm laughing, even though I didn't find it particularly funny at the time. In fact, I found it particularly horrendous at the time.

Flint gives my hand a weird, longer than necessary, hand shake which turns into him just holding my hand and staring at me as though he's about to cry. We both realize the awkwardness at about the same time. Flint pulls his hand back into his pocket and rubs the back of his neck. "Good luck." He mutters, before walking back outside of the justice building with Reyna.

My parents are in next. Neither of them is crying, though I can tell they're both trying hard to keep their eyes dry to appear strong for me. I don't know why parents do that. But, I don't complain because tears always just make heavy situations even heavier.

**District 12: Kasey Spalik (16) Pov- **

My mother comes to say goodbye, her hand on Daniel's shoulder. They both seem unable to say anything for the first few moments. They can't even approach me. I have to say the first words.

"Do take care of yourselves while I'm gone." I mutter, casually.

"Kasey…" My mother says. "Don't worry about-"

"I'm not worried."

"I know you must be scared-"

"I'm not scared." I tell her. My eyes run over her tear stained face. I know I'm not going to win. But, I'm not going to tell her that. "There is no reason to fret."

"Well. You have to be very careful…one mistake and…" She closes her mouth. "Don't end up like Clarissa." Daniel says. I stare down at my little brother for a moment.

"I'm nothing like our older sister. I don't lose easily. And I'm going to do everything in my power to win these games." I cock my head to the left, studying the still nervous expressions of my mother and brother. I know there's nothing left to say to make them feel better. I run a hand through my hair, letting out a careful sigh. "But, do take care of yourselves while I'm gone."

**There we go! The reapings are now over! So, why not drop a review and tell me what you guys think? **

**Also, now you guys can PM me with your top choices for a partner for your tribute. Here's how it's going to work: You can send me your top three choices for a partner and any tributes you really don't want as a partner for your tribute. I'm just going to try and make as many people get their first choices as possible. I know this process seems a little confusing, but i think it's going to work. :)**

**Answer to last question: Falcon's brother's name is Kai.  
**


	14. The Train Ride

**District 6: Hadley Paxton (15) Pov-**

Anderson shovels a big spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate, then ladles on a ton of chicken stew, he dives his fork into his mountain and eats like he's never going to see food again.

I frown as Anderson plucks a bun from the basket, ripping the soft bread in half before sticking a chunk into his mouth.

"You know you shouldn't eat so much." I tell him. "You don't want to get sick."

"I'm just trying to make up for the last 13 years of my life." He says, once swallowing a mouthful.

"You should finish up. We still have to watch the reapings. They'll be on in a quarter of an hour." Our mentor, Ajax Meter, mutters.

I stand up, holding my plate. "Where's the sink?" I ask.

Our escort chuckles like I've just said a joke, and Ajax frowns.

"You don't have to clean up. The servants will do that for you." Ajax says.

"I don't mind."

"No. Really. Sit back down." His tone is a little less soft than originally, it's not quite angry yet, but it's still enough to make me sit back down and keep quiet.

"Do I have to watch the reapings?" Anderson raises a brow. "I'm kind of tired. All that food just…made me…" He leans forward and rests his head on the table as though to prove his fatigue.

"You don't _have _to." Ajax says, his tone cold. "But if you want to improve your very small chance of getting back home you might want to get a first look at your competition."

Anderson lets his jaw fall open a little. "Never mind. I'm not that tired anymore."

The television on the train is massive. I sit on the couch beside Anderson and stare at the huge device.

"I'm nervous. Are you?" I ask Anderson. He looks at me, raising a brow.

"About watching television? Are you like so poor you've never seen one of these before?" He scoffs. "Well, _I'm_ not nervous at all."

Ajax turns the volume up so as to tell Anderson and I to stop talking. Lynette Diamond's thick, capitol accent fills our train cart. Lynette just started being the commentator for the games last year, she's got a great ease about her, always knows when to crack a joke; her charisma is impossible to overlook. She explains how exciting the reapings have been this year, and how she can see the games are going to be "to _die_ for", and then she chuckles at her own pun.

District 1 has normal careers, two healthy, good-looking teenagers. District 2's boy looks mildly terrifying with his cold stare and huge frame, his partner seems confident. The boy from 3, I'm sure will get sponsors just because of his good looks. I swallow, because so many of these tributes seem so memorable. Even in district 5 a young boy volunteers. I can't help feeling like I'm forgettable when I watch myself get reaped. I don't seem confident or like I have any chance of winning. I turn to look at Anderson. He doesn't look relaxed, but he doesn't seem to be freaking out quite to the extent I am.

The girl from 7 even fights against the peacekeepers. Her partner smiles like he knows exactly what he's doing. It's when district 9 rolls around that I don't feel so terrified, I just feel confused. Anderson laughs at the boy. I feel sorry for him because I figure he must not be right in the head. The two tributes from 11 seem horribly un-phased. The girl from 12 even has enough spunk to talk back to her escort.

Once the reapings end, Lynette gives her own overview of the reapings. And then gives the latest on the deal with partners.

"I know everyone is excited about tributes from different district getting paired together. But, the pairings will not be announced until after the chariot rides. And a further surprise for this year is the great feast will be broadcasted, live, Tuesday at 8 P.M. and you won't want to miss it."

I turn to Ajax. "The feast?"

"Yes. They've been doing it for the last few years." Ajax says. "Basically a chance for the tributes to meet each other if they want before training. Though, mostly they just eat and don't talk to each other."

"How come I never heard about it?"

"Since it's never been broadcasted, I don't know why you would. Although, I heard in the 99th hunger games, deluxe edition, there were some clips from the feast."

"Deluxe edition?"

"Yeah. Some people like to buy copies of the games. The deluxe edition has all the reapings, interviews, chariot rides- and everything. Although, it's a bit too expensive, if you were to ask me."

**Sorry it's been so long since an update. Sandy has been making things difficult. But, I'm back on track now! **


	15. Preparing for the Feast

**District 11: Riley Kramer (17) Pov-**

Leelee Emerson holds her head up, looking down her nose to take me in. I wait for my stylist to smile or grimace or show any reaction to my appearance. All she does is pull up a strand of my bronze hair and examine it.

"Nice." She says, and then turns around to nod at my prep team. "Well done."

I smile as my prep team exits, I still don't have any idea what I look like, but I decide the lot of them were nice enough as they fixed me up. I feel a little better knowing that they haven't chopped my hair off or died it green.

"Now, time for your dress." Leelee grins at the words, like she's a little girl who has just mentioned a favorite flavor of ice cream. She pulls a long, black gown from the bag resting beside her chair. "The outfits for the feast have to be only consist of black, white and gold. Some stylists complain because that doesn't leave them much to work with, but sometimes simple is beautiful. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes." I want to tell her thousands of reasons why she's right. And how everything in the capitol seems to say the opposite. But, I keep my mouth shut as she hands me the dress to slip into.

The fabric is soft and delicate. It dances around my legs, and I run my hand over the cloth, intrigued by its elegance.

"Shall we have a look then?" Leelee asks, already pulling me through the room, and in front of a large mirror. I can't help the foolish smile that takes over my lips, because even now there's that stupid part of me that loves that feeling of being unbelievably beautiful. My bronze hair cascades down my back, my green eyes pop against my tan skin. The dress makes my features delicate and mature.

"It's beautiful." I say, turning away from the mirror. "Thank you."

"Well, I do get paid a lot for this. So, there's no reason to get all worked up." She chuckle's softly to herself. "You best get back to your room. I suspect your mentor will want to talk to you quickly before the feast." She says, already turning around. "And don't worry. We'll be seeing each other very soon."

I make my way out of the beauty room, and try to remember which way the dining area is. The training center is the largest building I've ever been in close proximity to, and even though district 11 only inhabits the 11th floor of the edifice, I still can't wrap my mind around the place. I wander the hallways for a few minutes, enjoying the calm moment in time where there isn't a huge swarm of stylists fluttering around me. I turn a corner, running into another body. I take a step back, and look up at the person in front of me.

"Falcon?" I have to ask, because he looks really different. His hair that usually drapes in front of his eyes has been trimmed and styled, he's wearing a sharp black suit instead of his usual hoodie that he hides behind, and I'm trying to pretend I'm not struck by how incredibly handsome he is.

He tenses as though I've just insulted him, and then nods before continuing past me. "Wait! Do you know where the dining area is?" I ask, trailing after him.

"Yes." He doesn't slow down at all as I follow him. And he hardly looks at me once. We arrive in front of the familiar door. Falcon swings it open and I duck in after him.

"I was wondering when you two would get back." Colette Reand stands up from the couch she has been lounging on. She's a pretty cool girl, and I think she's a pretty good mentor as well. "The feast starts in ten minutes!" She adds, allowing herself a moment to take the two of us in. She doesn't exactly smile, but I can tell she's pleased because her eyes get a little less harsh for a moment before returning to her strict stare. "Now, you guys want to be on your best behavior. Not only are you meeting the tributes, but President Road will be there, all the gamemakers and not to mention the whole of Panem will be watching."

Falcon makes a small sound, sort of like a breathless chuckle.

As Collette brings her glare to him, he doesn't flinch.

"Since when is watching people eat interesting?" He asks. It's just about the first sentence he's said to Collette since we arrived, which is more than he's said to me.

"Trust me. I've never heard of one of these where everyone just sits and around eats. You're going to be surrounded by twenty-three teenagers that could potentially kill you in a week. There's always some drama." Collette presses her lips together, before continuing. "Plus, they have cameras places you couldn't even imagine. Everything you say can be picked up. Just remember to be careful what you let out of your mouth."

**Tune in next chapter for the feast! Here is a schedule showing what's in store for the tributes these next few days: **

**Tuesday, June 24****th****: The feast- 8 p.m.**

**Wednesday, June 25****th****: The chariot rides- 2 p.m., Partners announced- 8 p.m.**

**Thursday, June 26****th****: Day 1 of training- 10 a.m.- 1 p.m.**

**Friday, June 27****th****: Day 2 of training- 10 a.m.- 1 p.m.**

**Saturday, June 28****th****: Day 3 of training- 10 a.m.- 1 p.m.**

**Sunday, June 29****th****: Private training sessions- 10 a.m., Training scores announced -8 p.m.**

**Monday, June 30****th****: Interviews- 6 p.m.**

**Tuesday, July 1****st****: Day 1 of the Hunger Games. **


	16. The Feast

**District 10: Halley Morris (15) Pov-**

The room is huge, chandeliers drape from the ceiling. All around the room there are small tables with a number stuck into the center, to our corresponding districts. A larger table rests in the center of the room, filed with bowls of potatoes, stew, sausages, bread, even delectable deserts and iced beverages. I shuffle over to my table, momentarily glancing up as music finds my ears. To my left a live orchestra has started playing a famous capitol tune. I smile at the radiant melody, and look across the table at Friesian. He looks just as annoyed and angry as usual. I wonder if he's going to talk to any of the other tributes tonight. But, I figure not. He's not really a people person.

I try not to gape as the other tributes enter the room. All the girls are in beautiful dresses. The boys in fancy suits.

I find myself staring at the boy from 7. I remember him from the reapings. He was already handsome then. But now, in his tux he looks sort of like a movie star. And I get the feeling he can tell because of the way he grins as he sits down at his table. I look down as he glances over at me.

"I'm starving. When are we going to eat?" Friesian groans, disinterested in the other tributes.

"Just be patient. In a minute." Felicity says, a distasteful look in her eyes.

Once everyone takes to their seats, the big double doors fly open and President Road, accompanied by his three main Gamemakers, saunters into the room. Immediately the music stops and every whisper in the room dies out. The President makes his way over to the long table situated by the orchestra. He takes the seat in the very middle, with a perfect view of every other human being in the room. The Gamemakers fill the seats beside him. And for a moment President Road crosses his legs, cocks his head and looks at each and every tribute, taking in everything about us. Once his eyes land on me, I try very hard not to blink.

"I would like to welcome you all to the capitol!" He starts. At this moment everyone in the room chooses to applaud, and a couple of the kids whistle. "This evening we have a wonderful feast laid out for you all. I encourage you to speak to the other tributes as well as myself. And above all just enjoy this wonderful evening." President Road's lips fold into such a warm smile, I almost forget he's going to have most of us dead in a few weeks. "Help yourselves."

The orchestra starts up again, and the pair from 1 quickly charge up to the table filled with food, closely followed by the district 2 tributes. They start to converse as they help themselves. The girls are giggling together about something that the boy from 1 said.

"Looks like the career group has already formed." Felicity sighs. "Aren't you going to go get food?"

Friesian jumps from his seat, I stay behind a moment, looking around the room for someone who looks at all friendly who I could maybe start a conversation with. I watch the girl from 9 stand up, her golden dress hugs her thighs tightly, showing off her tall figure. She runs a hand through her long, dark hair. I grab a plate just after her, and watch as she helps herself.

"This stuff looks amazing, doesn't it?" I say.

The girl looks up at me. Her green eyes are calculating for a moment, and I almost think she's going to ignore me, but then a smile fills her face. "Fits right in with everything else around here. Just as over the top." She blinks. "My names Clarity. You are?"

"Halley. I'm from district 10."

"Yes. I remember." She says, pouring a spoonful of stew on top of her potatoes. "You didn't cry or anything when you were reaped. I respected that."

"You didn't cry…or recite poetry. I respected that." I mutter. She tips her head back and lets out a musical laugh. Again she looks at me, as though she's thinking really hard about something.

"I'll see you around, then." She says.

"Yeah. Definitely."

**District 3: Skip Ryden (18) Pov-**

There's so much food. I can't even fit a small portion of everything that looks appetizing on my plate. I fit everything that I can, and then stare at the small vials of clear liquid at the end of the table. Are they some type of syrup? Or a palate cleanser? Another boy seems to be having the same problem as I.

"What is that stuff?" I ask. He grins.

"Eh. I mean it's on the table full of delicious food. Can't be too bad." He mutters. "The names Joey. And you are?"

"Skip Ryden." I say.

"Oh. You give your full name. One of those guys, I see." He rolls his eyes but I can see the playful smile on his lips.

"Yeah. I guess I am."

As we speak the boy from 11 passes by us, giving a look at the vials at the end, but avoiding taking one. "Excuse me." Joey taps the boy's shoulder. "Do you know what that is?"

The boy blinks once, slow and tired. His grey cold eyes narrow, and then he turns around taking his plate back to his table.

"He seems nice." I offer. This makes us both start laughing.

"The perfect ally." Joey agrees.

"All right." I nod, continuing to stare at the vials. "Then I dare you to drink one." I say.

His lips turn into a smirk. "Well, I can't pass by a _dare_." He takes a moment to look over the vials, turning a few over, his blue eyes scanning the tiny bottles as though trying to find one that's unlike all the others. Eventually he picks one up in his hands, unscrews the top and brings the vial to his lips, tipping his head back.

"What do you think you're doing?" A girl pops up behind him. Her long red hair flows down her back. I recognize her as his district partner.

"Uh." He squints. "Completing a dare."

She turns her back as though she's going to walk away. Then she sighs. "Do you know what that stuff is?"

"No."

"It's supposed to make you puke." She says. "Maybe you should rethink about doing the dare." Then she hurries away with her plate of food. He sets the vial down.

"Good timing." I say. Joey looks after her for a moment, before turning back to me.

"You have to dare me to do something else."

"Huh?"

"It's kind of an unspoken rule. If you turn down a dare you have to do another one." He says, like it's something everyone knows.

"Okay." I press my lips together, trying to think of something awesome. "Okay. I dare you to do something crazy during the chariot rides tomorrow."

"That's it?" He grins. "It doesn't matter what?"

"I don't want to force you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"That's the whole point of a _dare_."

"Okay." I lean in so to be positive the cameras can't pick up on what I say. I watch Joey's expression once I've finished telling him. I expect him to shake his head. Because even I, who would do just about any dare, wouldn't do this.

But Joey just smiles; something like excitement flickering deep in his blue eyes.

**District 2: Brynn Carson (16) Pov-**

I'm relieved I've gotten myself a spot in the career group. Jared was just so hard to speak to; I almost thought he wouldn't want me in the career pack. But, I guess he just acts that way to everyone.

We've pushed out tables together, so there's enough room for all of us to fit and discuss our plans on the games as well as gossip about the other tributes. We're the only tributes in the room who are sitting with people not from our district.

Sparkle is very easy to talk to, and I like how laid back she is to the fact that we are in the hunger games. Colton also seems very confident. This helps me really relax. They know what they're doing.

"Any tributes catch your eye? Should we invite any to join?" Colton asks.

"Well, the giant from 3." Jared says. "I think he might even be taller than _me_."

"Yeah. He's a possibility." Sparkle says. "What about the boy from 11? He looked like he wanted to kill everyone in his district when he was reaped."

"I don't trust him." Colton says. "And there's this rumor going around that he killed his brother."

"Where did you hear that from?" Jared asks.

"His partner." Colton says. "She seems pretty decent herself. We could probably use someone like her."

"You think he actually killed his own brother?" I ask, looking over at the boy. Him and his district partner are eating silently at their table.

"Let's find out." Sparkle says, jumping out of her chair. She runs a hand through her blonde hair.

"Wait! I'll go." Colton says. Sparkle shrugs, and sits back in her chair.

I watch as Colton stalks over to the boy's table. He smiles at the girl and then says something to the boy, a big smile on his face. The boy drops the fork in his hand onto the floor and keeps looking down at his plate. The next thing I know the boy is on top of Colton, his hands wrapped around his neck.

The whole room goes quiet. And the boy seems to realize what he's done. He glances quickly at the President's table, the pure hatred that was on his face disappears.

A group of peacekeepers grab the boy, dragging him away from Colton, who is so shocked he can't quite do anything but lie on the floor, his jaw hanging open. After one last glare down at Colton, the boy somehow untangles himself from the group of peacekeepers and races out of the room before they can grab onto him again. The double doors slam behind him.

"Now _that_ was an exit." Sparkle whispers as a couple of the peacekeepers hurry out of the room after the boy. She's smiling. Colton gets back to his feet and walks back to our table. He takes a drink from his glass.

"Well, _he's_ crazy. Definitely not career material." He says. I can tell he's embarrassed from the way he's avoiding eye contact with any of us.

"Watch you get paired with him." Sparkle chuckles. Colton groans.

"We haven't yet discussed what we're going to do if we get a _really_ bad partner." He says, he leans more towards the three of us, lowering his voice to a whisper. "If your partner is bad enough you have to ditch them and stick with the pack, okay?"

"But if they die, we die, too." I say. "Shouldn't we make sure they don't get killed?"

Colton shakes his head. "They're going to slow us down."

"And the first priority of the pack is killing, right?" Sparkle says. At this Colton and I both cringe slightly, but Sparkle doesn't notice.

"Man, I really hope that I get a good partner." I press my thumbs into my palms, nervously. "What if I get one of the twelve-year-olds?"

"I just hope I don't get the idiot from 9." Sparkle says.

"What does that kid think he's doing?" Jared interrupts her, his gaze fixed on something behind me. I turn around and immediately see exactly what Jared was looking at. The boy from 5 has gone to the Presidents table and is talking to him, a smile fixed on his face.

"There's something not right about that kid." Colton says. "I saw him walking around on _our_ floor, exploring the building or something weird like that. And he gave me the creepiest smile and just stared at me, didn't even say hi or anything."

"And not to mention he looks like a girl." Sparkle adds.

"Yeah. I was just thinking that." I say. The boy does have a feminine face, he sort of looks like a doll.

"Maybe he _is _a girl. And he's pretending to be a boy and there's going to be huge controversy over this." Colton says. I realize it's a joke before Sparkle or Jared, who both just give him weird looks. I chuckle, and Sparkle rolls her eyes.

"Let's just kill him in the bloodbath."


	17. A Wonderful Day for the Chariot Rides

President Road Pov-

It's a wonderful afternoon for the chariot rides. I've already seen the tributes at the feast, although the chariot rides show me how they react to being in front of thousands of people. And who can resist the colorful slightly ridiculous costumes?

Another rather splendid thing about the chariot rides is that they happen right outside of my mansion. All I have to do is slip into a sharp suit, have an avox bring me a glass of whiskey, and step out onto the porch of my top floor for the great view. I have a couple trusty peacekeepers standing behind me. My wife, whose in a beautiful sapphire gown that flaunts her slim figure, reclines on the chair beside me. Our daughter, Maya, sits next to her mother. She pulls at her dark curly hair, her brown eyes wide with anticipation.

"Daddy, when is it going to start?" She asks.

"Patience, Maya. There's the music now."

Maya leans into her mother's arms, watching as District 1's chariot comes into view. The crowd roars with delight. The chariot rides are always a crowd favorite. I can't help smiling because of the overall elation and excitement that fills the streets. It almost feels as though the death of last year's victor is slowly fading into a memory.

Both the tributes from district 1 wave at the cameras. Grins are plastered across their handsome faces. The boy wears a gold body suit with a sapphire fur jacket and a platinum vest, inlaid with jewels. I can tell the stylists must have put eyeliner around his eyes to make him seem more animalistic.

The girl is in a platinum skintight body suit with gems inlaid into the fabric. She wears a sapphire shrug and platinum knee high boots hug her legs. Her eyebrows are drawn as straight lines to give her a feline quality, quite like her district partner. Her hair is twisted into buns on the sides. The pair are typical careers and sure to be a favorite during the games.

Both tributes from district 2 have their skin and hair dyed so they resemble the clear whitish-grey of marble statues. The tributes stand completely frozen, furthering the statue design. When the tributes jolt into movement, the crowd gasps. I'll admit it's quite impressive. The boy is in a white outfit, similar to that of a gladiator's, a hollow sword in his right hand. His expression is completely indifferent, like he couldn't care less that thousands of people are watching him. His huge stature tells me he's going to be good competition.

The girl wears a classic white, ankle length, roman dress. She has a white blindfold put above her eyes and she carries a scale, I figure this symbolizes justice of some sort. The girl smiles out at the crowd, waving in the direction of the cameras, despite not being able to see.

District 3 is no less entertaining than the first 2 career districts. The boy wears a full pieced body suit made of metallic forest green material. Gold and black wires run across it, reminding me of a hard drive. His short hair is slicked back. And he wears glasses that wrap all the way around his head, giving him a futuristic essence. He grins at the cameras, and when a young girl in the audience reaches her skinny arm as close to their chariot as she can get, he looks right at her and winks. There is a roar of delight from the audience.

His partner is in a geometric fashioned dress. The same forest green metal bends into a skirt that ends at her knees. Like her partner's outfit, gold and black wires run along the metal. Her blonde curls are styled into a jumble of braids and twists. It takes me a moment to realize her shoes are glowing a warm gold. She smiles, probably aware of how very beautiful she looks.

District 4 wheels by. The boy has a huge grin plastered on his face as he stares at himself on the big screen. He's shirtless, and a dorsal fin is stuck onto his back. A sea glass crown rests on top of his long hair. The patterns of fish scales decorate his feet.

The girl's hair looks wind blown with seaweed pieces springing from it. Her skin is stained a bluish teal up to a few inches above her waist. The skin around her eyelids is also dyed blue, so it appears as though she's wearing a mask. She's in a one-shoulder dress with what looks like waves sewn onto it. A starfish rests on her shoulder. She doesn't smile at all. She just keeps her eyes focused in front of her, as though looking through all the cameras and people.

District 5's chariot comes into view. The girl wears a rubber body suit that flares out at the collar with wires wound along the rubber. She has on rubber gloves that have a button on the palm of the hand. When she presses the button sparks shoots from the wires, looking like fireworks. Her dark hair has yellow and white glitter brushed into it. Despite wearing an incredible costume, she hunches forward slightly, seeming unsure of herself.

The boy is in a similar full body suit. His hair has somewhat comical white streaks through it like he's got electricity flowing through him this very moment. Though, unlike his partner, he looks perfectly content to be where he is. There's something so mature about the way he holds himself, about the soft smile that lingers on his lips.

District 6 obviously relates to transportation. A thick ribbon that reminds me of a train track wraps around the girl's body. Her hair is sculpted into a bow. Her partner wears a suit that has computer reception chips woven into the fabric, allowing short video clips of the cluttered streets of district 6 to be shown.

Both tributes sport uncomfortable smiles.

Then comes district 7's chariot. A chorus of whispers tears through the crowd. The chariot holds only one girl; her partner nowhere in sight. The girl is wrapped up in what appears to be a giant leaf. A headdress of branches sticks out of her long red hair. My first thought is maybe that the boy is sick. But, that certainly doesn't give him the right to not show up for the chariot rides.

There's a shout from somewhere in the audience, followed by a few more shrieks. Then, looking up at the screen, I see exactly why so many people are panicking. The screen shows a kid climbing up the side of the building. As the camera zooms in, I see it's the boy from 7. He's already a good six stories up, only a few yards from the porch I'm lounging on. If he falls, he's most likely dead.

When he sees himself on the screen, he tilts his head back and grins.

The boy's hair is slightly jumbled and he's got a smudge of something black on his cheek, yet he still manages to look handsome. His costume is a little messed up; The vines around his neck hang precariously and his brown suit models a rip on the right arm.

As he raises himself onto the railing surrounding my porch, a boyish grin spreads across his lips. He straightens up and holds his arms out. For a moment I think he's going to jump. But he's just balancing himself before jumping onto the porch, only about a foot away from me. Maya gapes at him as though he's some type of god.

The crowd cheers, absolutely loving the show.

"Mr. President." He nods in greeting. "I was getting a bit bored down there and thought I'd join you guys up-" Before he can get another word out his eyebrows come together and he swallows thickly. There's a soft thump as he falls forward onto the cold stones of the porch, a dart in his neck.

I turn around to smile at the peacekeeper standing behind me. "Nice shot." I mutter. "Bring him back to his room. He's caused enough trouble for one day." The peacekeeper lifts the boy into his arms and starts towards the building. I relax into my seat, and turn back to the parade. Thankfully they've waited to bring district 8's chariot out until now.

The girl has bright pink tulle braided into her hair. She wears a silver slip with layered fringes of sewing needles. She stands stiffly, as though afraid of pricking herself on the needles.

Her partner wears a large band of wood around his neck and waist. Pink thread winds around his waist. His pants have the same fringes of needles. Though, needles also run through his brown hair. He seems even more uneasy than his partner, standing about as still as the tributes from district 2. He even blinks carefully as though he expects one of the needles to fall from his hair and jab him in the eye.

The boy from district 9 wears beige pants that have grain climbing up the sides. His jacket has shoulder pads with buttons similar looking to pieces of grain. He fiddles with his jacket, looking very pale and dangerously close to passing out. His partner wears a long dress with floor length kimono sleeves that have the same grain design as her male counterpart. She stands with her shoulders rolled back, a sultry smile on her red lips.

District 10 has the girl dressed in a ruffled skirt made of cow print and knee high black boots. A jean jacket covers the skin just down to her rib cage. And she wears a bandana around her pigtailed hair. She holds a lasso in her hand, a friendly smile on her face.

The boy wears a tucked in jean jacket, the cloth is rugged at the edges almost as though the sleeves have been ripped off. Big black cowboy boots hug his brown pants and a red bandana wraps around his forehead. He looks slightly peeved to be in the moving chariot, hardly caring to pay any attention to the crowd.

District 11's chariot brings a new wave of cheers. Mostly because the boy's incident with the career at the feast has gotten around, and everyone likes a fighter; They make the games bloody and interesting. The boy wears red overalls over a green shirt. His hair is curled and a classic farmers straw hat rests on his head. He seems oblivious to the cheers. Instead he keeps a steady glare in his eyes as he looks out at the crowd, it falters once and he crosses his arms in front of his body, something kind of disturbing deep in his grey eyes.

The girl wears a red sequined, strapless dress that falls to her mid-thigh. A skirt cape made of red feathers and sequins wraps around her waist. Her bronze hair is pulled into a bun with a crown of leaves. A particularly loud man screeches an "I love you!" in her direction. She tips her head back and laughs.

The last chariot makes an entrance. The girl from 12 is in a black strapless top, dark and reflective like pieces of coal. A shimmering pencil skirt embraces her legs. And her bright red tights resemble flames.

The boy has coal dust on his chin and cheeks. He wears a red shirt with a zipped up jacket that has fake flames dancing across the fabric. His pants glitter in the light. His long dark hair is dyed red at the tips. The two look almost like opposites. The boy has a goofy smile on, while the girl keeps a straight face, her blue eyes roam the crowd as though she's got something else on her mind.

"So, what did you think?" I ask Maya, after taking a long sip of my whiskey.

"Daddy, it was _beautiful_. Can they do it again?"

I chuckle, sharing a look with my wife.

**I want to say a special thanks to LilacFields who designed all the chariot costumes (isn't she awesome?) Next chapter the partners will be announced, so don't forget to tune in for that!**

**Question: Who was Katniss Everdeen's first ally in the hunger games? **


	18. Partners

**District 5: Sophie Merita (13) Pov-**

Talen sits down next to me, causing the couch to shift under our combined weight. His green eyes run across my face and I shift, uncomfortable underneath his gaze. "You look very beautiful this evening, Sophie. Doesn't she look beautiful?" He addresses the last part to our mentor, Lorelai, although he doesn't once take his eyes off me as he speaks.

"Thanks." I can't help the blush that creeps into my cheeks. "I still haven't been able to wash off all the make-up from earlier."

He lips turn into a youthful smile. "Do you have a first choice for a partner?" He asks.

"Oh. I don't know." I sigh. "Someone nice, I hope. Not someone all that awful. That girl from 6 seemed nice. What about you?"

"I'll be happy with whoever I get."

"There has to be someone that you want more than other people." I mutter.

"No. I believe not. I suppose some tributes will be easier to get along with. But, I don't find friendship very compulsory. I'm just ready for the games start."

"You're _ready_?"

"Yes. And I'm excited." He says. I take a moment to listen for a last remnant of sarcasm in his words, but I don't hear any sign that he's joking.

"Why?"

He doesn't answer me. He just continues to smile at me. There's something about his eyes that makes me think they could almost belong to a young boy who has just heard Santa is coming early this year. The fingers on his right hand twitch, as though he's finding it hard to keep composed when so much enthusiasm flows through him.

"Why?" I ask him again, but my words are lost to the sound of Lynette Diamond's voice blaring from the television.

"It's the moment you've all been waiting for; the revealing of the partners! Now, first I want to remind you all that tomorrow, each tribute will undergo surgery to be internally linked to their partners. Don't worry- there will be no ugly conjoined twins." She chuckles. Talen laughs at this as well."They will look just the same, even feel just the same. The only difference is that if one partner dies, the remaining tribute will slowly have their body shut down on them. I might add it will be quite a slow, painful death. So, keeping their partners alive as well as themselves is a necessity."

I let out a sigh, trying not to think about what it must feel like to have my body shut down. Will it be better just to kill myself if my partner dies?

"Okay. Let's start, then." Lynette says. "Colton Orsel from district 1 will be paired with Arianne Pixel from district 3." As she speaks photos of the two tributes pop up on the screen, side by side. "Sparkle Uccello from district 1 will be paired with Sophie Merita from district 5."

I watch the television as my picture is shown next to hers. She's not exactly the nice, friendly tribute I was hoping for. She's a career.

"That's fabulous news for you, Sophie!" Lorelai exclaims from her chair. "A career!"

I nod, halfheartedly.

"And Jared Lynxx from district 2 will be paired with Talen Morton from district 5."

I glance at Talen, who still hasn't managed to wipe the smile from earlier off his face. Lorelai has started laughing because she can't believe both of us have managed to get careers as partners.

"Brynn Carson from district 2 will be paired with Mikey Jonah from district 9. Skip Ryden from district 3 will be paired with Riley Kramer from district 11. Tommy Scott from district 4 will be paired with Kat Callaghan from district 9. Janette McKinley from district 4 will be paired with Halley Morris from district 10. Anderson Piely from district 6 will be paired with Fresian Wade from district 10. Hadley Paxton from district 6 will be paired with Todd Brown from district 8. Joey Morel from district 7 will be paired with Clarity May from district 9. Clara Kinking from district 7 will be paired with Hunter Night from district 12. And lastly, Falcon Dide from district 11 will be paired with Kasey Spalik from district 12."

"Do you think I have to stay with my partner during the games?" I ask this softly enough so I hope only Talen will hear me. He cocks his head a little, as though thinking.

"You don't have to do anything unless you want to." He mumbles. Lorelai chooses this moment to stand up from her chair and stalk over to me. She leans down so her face is only a few centimeters away from mine.

"You want a different partner?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I would be happier without a bloodthirsty-"

"You heard what Lynette said; if your partner dies, you're a goner, too." Lorelai cuts me off. I can tell from the way her dark eyes are fastened on mine with such intensity that she's angry. "You need to start thinking of your partner as part of your body. You don't just leave part of yourself in a dangerous arena and leave it to _die_."

"I...that's not..."

"But, you know what, just go ahead, see if I care." Lorelai says. "Sparkle is you only hope for survival, anyway."

I blink in an attempt to stop the tears, but it's no use. They come tumbling out of my eyes, sliding down my cheeks. I jump to my feet and rush out of the room, only catching a glimpse of Talen's still mirthful expression on my way out.

**So now you have it, the partners for the 100****th**** hunger games! And here is a clear and concise list of the partners for the games, just in case any of those reading enjoy organized lists like myself: **

** Colton Orsel (16) and Arianne Pixel (16)**

** Sparkle Uccello (17) and Sophie Merita (13)**

**Jared Lynxx (17) and Talen Morton (15)**

**Brynn Carson (16) and Mikey Jonah (15)**

**Skip Ryden (18) and Riley Kramer (17) **

**Tommy Scott (17) and Kat Callaghan (15) **

**Janette McKinley (16) and Halley Morris (15) **

**Anderson Piely (15) and Friesian Wade (14)**

**Hadley Paxton (15) and Todd Brown (12)**

**Joey Morel (16) and Clarity May (17) **

**Clara Kinking (16) and Hunter Night (15)**

**Falcon Dide (18) and Kasey Spalik (16)**

**Answer to the last question: Rue! (Yes! that was an easy one, wasn't it? I guess I had just hoped that perhaps someone would have gotten sidetracked by Peeta).  
**

**New Question: What color is Lavinia's hair? (Also an easy one. Sorry- I'll try to come up with a harder one for the next chapter).  
**


	19. Training Day 1

**District 9: Mikey Jonah (15) Pov-**

Clarity chews her toast, thoughtfully. Her eyes remain glassy and dazed, as though despite the fact that she's sitting across from me, she's in truth somewhere much further away. As she takes a sip of tea, she brings her gaze on me.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" she asks.

I shake my head. I'm way too nervous to put anything in my mouth. What if Brynn doesn't like me? What if she's upset because she got the one kid everyone thinks is crazy?

"Well, you should." Clarity says. "We don't eat again until after training today."

I shrug.

"Are you nervous?"

I nod.

She smiles. "Don't be. Being nervous isn't going to help you. Just relax and try to focus on training, and hopefully learning some new skills in the process." After she speaks, the distant look returns in her eyes.

* * *

On the elevator ride down, the pair from 8 gets on at the eighth floor. No one says a word. I shrink into the corner of the lift and lean my head against the wall, closing my eyes for a moment.

As the doors to the elevator open, I wait for everyone else to get off before shuffling into the training room. Most tributes are chatting with their partners. I notice Brynn immediately. She's standing with the rest of the careers, plus the partner of the boy from 1.

I take a deep breath and run a hand through my bright blonde hair, before stalking towards the group of careers. As I approach, the conversation stops and just about every single smile falls. The boy from 2 glares at me. Instinctively, I turn around and head back towards the elevator.

"Mikey!" A hand grabs my wrist. I turn around and find myself face to face with Brynn. She shows her teeth off in a friendly smile. "Where you going?"

"Uh…I just…thought…I dunno…some stuff…" I splutter. _Great job, Mikey. That made perfect sense._

"Okay." She stares at me for a moment.

"Yeah." I clear my throat. _Say something smart so she doesn't think you're an idiot. _"Did you know that cockroaches can live up to nine days without their heads?"

"No I didn't."

"Just learned that this year in bio." I mutter.

"Oh."

"Yeah." I rub the back of my neck, staring at my shoes. "Uh…I don't know why I said that." I swallow.

"It's…interesting."

"I'm sorry." I finally manage to keep eye contact with her. "I just really don't want you to think I'm crazy or anything."

"I don't think you're crazy." She says.

I figure she's just trying to be polite, which I appreciate greatly. "It's no secret that ever since the reapings _everyone _here thinks I'm insane."

She bites her bottom lip, probably unsure of how to respond.

"But, I just want you to know I was high out of my mind and I'm actually completely normal. Or…well…as normal as any other fifteen-year-old boy."

She chuckles at the end of my sentence, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

**District 5: Sophie Merita (13) Pov-**

I try to keep to the camouflage station. My best bet is hiding during the games. As long as I figure out good strategies to keep myself out of sight I have a much better chance of making it past the first day. However, I can't help but believe Lorelai; my inexperience and innocence are detrimental to my ability to survive a setting where only the most vicious and corrupt produce victors.

I must admit that I actually do take small pleasure from the paints at the camouflage station. They're so gentle on my hands; there are no sharp blades or blunt ends, only flowing liquid. It's obvious to me that the more I mix the different hues, the better I become at understanding the workings of concealment.

The boy from 8 and the girl from 6 share the station with me. Both are particularly awful with the paint. The partnership attempts to paint the boy's arm the same deep brown as his pants, but together they've managed to make his upper limb a dark red. Despite their failure, they still remain cheerful and patient with each other.

I mutter softly in their direction about needing more dark colors and a little more yellow. The two immediately try my suggestion. When the boy's arm turns brown their expressions mirror one of such astonishment and admiration it would seem as though I just let them in on the secret of the afterlife or something.

"You're pretty talented at this, aren't you?" the girl says.

"Yeah. Thank you so much," her partner adds. I shrug, turning back to my stained hands. "I'm Todd. And this is Hadley," he says.

"Sophie."

Both beam in my direction. I wonder for a moment why the two are being so incredibly nice to me. But, I get my answer from the girl.

"You want to be allies?"

"Sure." I say, even though I don't want any allies. I figure having two less people trying to kill me couldn't hurt. I'll just ditch them while in the arena.

"Really?" The boy's youthful smile grows even larger and after I nod he scoots further towards me and actually flings his little arms around me in a hug. "We're so happy because we could really use someone who knows something about disguise and stuff."

"Sophie." A voice comes from behind me. I turn around so I can look up at my partner.

Sparkle glances over at my new allies with some type of repulsion before locking eyes with me. She still has a knife in her hand from her latest activity of showing off with the rest of the careers. I can't help but flinch when the weapon comes close to me.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." She laughs. "We're partners, remember?"

"Yes."

"So, you want to come work with the rest of us?" She motions towards her group of careers. I swallow.

"You don't have to stay with me if you don't want to," I whisper.

"Excuse me?"

"I can do fine on my own." I speak louder this time. It comes out a lot more confident than I believed possible. And after Sparkle's eyes narrow, I realize perhaps I even managed to sound a little arrogant.

"It's not like I want a weak thing like you as a partner." Sparkle hisses. I'm only talking to you because I want to make sure you don't go get yourself killed and cost me my life."

"I'm not trying to make you angry." I reply. "I just don't want you to think I'm holding you back." _And I don't want anything to do with the bloodthirsty career group_.

"Never mind." She spits, turning her back to me sharply. Her blonde hair flutters around her face as she hurries back to her the careers.

**District 9: Clarity May (17) Pov-**

When I first arrive at training, the relationship between Joey and me is a little awkward. We start out at the plants section, chatting about little things that don't really matter. Like, our favorite subjects and colors. After a while of the mundane exchange, I finally succumb to the elephant in the room.

"So, what should our plan be?"

Joey puts down the plastic plant he had been fiddling with. "Keep away from the careers. Maybe stick with some allies. Do you have any people you think we should ally with?"

"The girl from 10. Halley." I look around the room, searching for the girl. She's with her partner at the rope tying station. A trainer is explaining something to the girls, both watch with concentration.

"Seems cool." Joey nods. "I was thinking we could team up with Skip and his partner. I think her name's Riley."

"Okay."

Joey stares at me for a moment, and I tuck my brown hair behind my ear, slightly uncomfortable by his gaze.

"Well, this station is boring as hell. I'm going to check out some other stations." He gets to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You can come if you want."

"Yeah. Sure." I answer, following him. After a beat of silence, I add, "I never got to tell you that I appreciated your stunt during the chariot rides yesterday. It was about time someone showed President Road we can change things up a bit."

"Thanks." Joey grins, showing off a rather brilliant smile. "My mentor hated it. Though, he gets _really_ entertaining when he's angry."

I can't help laughing. I would never find it the least bit amusing if my mentor was angry with me.

Joey stops walking in front of the sword fighting station. A couple of beaten dummies stand ready to get attacked.

"What say you to a little duel?" Joey pulls two wooden swords out from the bin. "My lady," he says in a capitol accent, handing me one I chuckle.

"Thank you, kind gentleman." I mimic his pronunciation. The weapon feels light compared to the swords I'm used to.

Joey rolls his shoulders back, and holds his sword out in front of him, squinting slightly as he prepares himself.

"Ready when you are," he mutters.

I lunge towards him, whacking my sword against his. His blue eyes widen and he actually takes a step away from me in an attempt to collect himself. He whispers a soft, "holy shit you're good" as I take a swing at his head. I easily dodge the swipe he takes at my chest. And in response, I jab him hard in the stomach.

He doubles over for a moment, holding his middle, dropping the sword in his hand to the floor.

"Oh. I'm sorry." I take a few steps towards him, dropping my sword as well. "Are you okay?"

Joey keeps his head down, giving me no response.

I rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

I don't have time to back away as Joey's arm shoots past me, grabbing his sword. He rests the tip of the wooden weapon on my neck.

"And…you're dead." His blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment I'm lost in the deep blue. The usual playful glint that lights them up is gone.

"That wasn't fair." I choke out.

He raises a brow. "Who says I have to be fair?" He pulls the weapon from my neck, the wood brushing against my skin. There's a soft thump as he tosses it back into the bin. "Nobody else around here cares about being fair."

I let his words sit with me for a moment. He fiddles with collar of his shirt, before turning back to me. "You're really good at that, by the way."

"Oh…thanks."

"I'm really…glad that you're my partner." He doesn't look at me when he speaks. He's staring at the boy from 2 devour a dummy with an axe. But, somehow I get the feeling that he really means his words.

"Well, you're pretty all right yourself," I say. Joey runs a hand through his brown hair and juts his chest out.

"Oh. Come on. I'm more than just _pretty_ all right," he smirks. I'm about come up with a clever response, when a siren goes off. The boy at the camouflage station lets rip a scream. And, unconsciously, I grab Joey's hand.

"It's just the lunch bell." He mutters in my ear.

"Oh." I let go quickly.

**District 2: Brynn Carson (16) Pov-**

"Aren't you going to invite your partner to sit with us?" I ask Jared.

Jared picks up his fork, glances momentarily at Talen, and brings his eyebrows together in a scowl. "No way. That kid is weird as hell."

"That's what I told you during the feast." Colton says, as he places his tray down at our table. Arianne plops down beside him, immediately taking a long sip from her glass of water.

"I'm just going to ignore him. Hopefully he'll manage to keep himself alive."

"At least he's better than my partner." Sparkle says, shooting a glare at the small girl sitting at the table next to ours. "She actually told me she doesn't want to stick with me. I mean what an unthankful child. She earns a place with the careers and turns it down. And it's not like she's in any kind of form to turn_ us_ down."

Sparkle stops talking as Mikey walks past our table. He bites his lip, and hesitates for a moment when he catches my eye. I'm about to invite him to sit next to me. But, Sparkle whispers in my ear, "Don't even think about it."

I think he figures Sparkle was talking about him because he hurries to the table right by the exit and sits down by himself.

"He's not a bad kid." I mumble to Sparkle. "He told me the reason he was so crazy during the reapings was because he was high. He doesn't even remember anything that happened that day. Just picked the wrong day to try drugs. He's actually really nice and quite smart."

"Fine. If you _love_ him so much I guess you can invite him over." Sparkle shrugs. "If it turns out he actually _is_ mentally challenged, I'm ditching the both of you."

"Fine." I mutter, turning around so I can see Mikey sitting alone. He's just staring down at his tray, using his fork to slide the slab of meat across his plate, not putting anything in his mouth.

"Mikey!" I shout. He doesn't look up.

"Oh great. The kid's deaf, too." Jared mutters. This causes Colton and Sparkle to burst out laughing.

"Mikey!" I try again, louder. This time he looks up. He smiles at me, before turning his attention back to his food.

"This is ridiculous." Jared rolls his eyes. "He obviously doesn't want to sit with us."

"You think so?" I frown. "Why?"

"Probably because he knows none of us like him." He mumbles, ripping his piece of bread in half and stuffing it in his mouth.

"You don't like him?" I ask.

"To be perfectly honest I don't like_ any_ of you guys all that much."

"Jared." Sparkle rolls her eyes. "Always the gentleman."

I can't help laughing at this. Jared shrugs.

"So, do you guys have a kill list yet?" Arianne asks, making sure to speak in a whisper.

"A what?" I ask.

"A kill list. Tributes you want to kill."

"I don't like the boy from 11." Colton replies. Sparkle grins.

"Because he beat you up in front of everyone."

"He didn't beat me up. I could have taken him if I wanted." Colton insists. "I just think he's a psycho maniac and we should get rid of him as soon as possible."

"Fine by me." Arianne shrugs.

"I don't like that annoying girl from 6." Sparkle says. "She's weirdly nice. No one is that nice. I think she's got something up her sleeve and I don't trust her."

"And let's not forget the show off from 7. Who the hell asked him to make the chariot rides all about himself?"

"I don't know. It _was_ kind of cool." I whisper.

"I liked it when he got the dart in his neck." Arianne adds, a devilish smile on her lips. "That part was awesome."

**In the course of the three chapters of training I will touch base with each partnership. So, don't worry if only a couple tributes are in this chapter! Also, I'm sorry it's been so long since the last chapter. But, I've been very busy recently. I really will try to update sooner for the next chapter. **

**Answer to last question: Lavinia's hair was red. **

**New Question: What weapon did Cato prefer more than the bow? **


	20. Training Day 2

**District 10: Halley Morris (15) Pov-**

_Thwack_

The end of the spear rattles as it makes contact with the dilapidated dummy. Janette hardly bats an eyelash as she pulls the weapon from the dummy's chest, her long ponytail brushes against her back. She holds the spear in her hand for a second, before plunging the lance through the dummy again.

"I think it's dead now," I mumble. It's my sad attempt at a joke. And Janette just ignores me. After yanking the spear one last time from the dummy, she holds the weapon out to me.

"You want to try then?"

"Uh. No…I trust you to be in charge of spears in the arena," I say. She shrugs, and takes a step or two away from the dummy, so she can practice her accuracy from a greater distance.

I let my eyes wander around the room, trying to get a good feeling of how the other tributes are preparing. Most tributes are staying with their partners. However, I do notice the boy from 11 alone at the knife throwing station, completely massacring the dummy in front of him. The boy from 9 is also unaccompanied, busying himself with the paints. I can't help feel sorry for him, and that his partner is staying with the careers.

I find myself staring at Clarity and her partner, Joey. I can't help thinking of how Joey shares the same name as my little brother. And yet they couldn't be more different. My little brother is shy and uncertain, he's a sweetheart. But, he's not the daring type like Joey. And not to mention that he's not quite as good-looking, or as-

"Who are you staring at?" Janette pulls me from my thoughts. As much as I try to prevent myself from blushing, my cheeks flush a deep red.

"No-nothing. No one. Just getting a feel of the other tributes."

She stares at me, her grayish-blue eyes scrutinizing my expression. For a moment I really do think that she's going to read my thoughts, because if anyone around here could it would be her. She shrugs, drawing a larger spear from the crate as she drops her last one into the plastic with a clang. "You're weird," she mutters.

"Thanks." I do another scan of the room, and when I realize Clarity and Joey are staring at me, I immediately grab a spear from the crate, and stand beside Janette.

"So, how do I do this again?"

Janette puts her hand over mine, positioning my fingers around the speer correctly. "What you want to do is-"

"Halley!" Clarity shouts. I spin around to see her and her partner jogging over to our station. The horribly annoying girl part of me runs a hand through my brown hair, because _he_ is coming towards me.

"So, you two going to ally with us?" Joey asks, his voice low and sober, as though he believes the rest of the training room is listening in on our conversation.

Janette looks a little skeptical. But, I go ahead and answer for her.

"Sure! We'd love to." I silently curse myself for not sounding a little less enamored by his presence.

Joey nods at me, flashing a smile, which I return eagerly.

"Right now we just have me, Clarity, Skip, Riley, and you guys. But, I think that's enough," he says. "We don't want a group too big, because then we'll be easier to track."

_Thwack_

Joey blinks as the spear flies past him, missing his nose by a centimeter, and hits the dummy. Him and Clarity gape at Janette as she wipes her sweaty hands on her pants.

"Dude, that was _sick_." Joey murmurs.

"Yeah. Really amazing." Clarity agrees.

Janette still doesn't smile. She just nods, acknowledging their comments. "We'll see you guys later, then," she says. Although her words seem a little impolite, her tone is very respectful. And as Joey and Clarity head over to another station, Janette glares in my direction.

"What?" I finally ask. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Written all over your eyes. You couldn't be more obvious." She whispers. "You better stop, Halley."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me. I know you're…" She stops, fishing for the right word, "_Intrigued_ by that Joey kid. And you have to stop. Because if this partnership works, he's going to be dead within a week or two."

**District 12: Hunter Night (15) Pov- **

Clara and I plan to split up so we can effectively grasp a good understanding of each station. I'm content with Clara as a partner. She has a clear head on her shoulders, and we agree on most everything. Although at first we disagreed on the importance of allies, I've now mostly gotten Clara to agree that we'll be better as just a two-person team.

After I finish perfecting my work over at the axe station and making the pair at the rope stations' jaws drop, I head over to Clara to check how she's finding the fire work station. She's managed to work up a smoke by rubbing two small sticks together, but I can tell from the line that cuts the skin between her eyebrows that she's a little frustrated.

I kneel beside her, watching as her long fingers pinch the stick so hard it eventually breaks in half. She doesn't make a sound of annoyance, doesn't even roll her eyes, she only grabs another stick.

"Looks like you're not doing too bad. Give yourself another few minutes and you should be able to do it."

She nods, shooting her green eyes in my direction. "You're good with the axe," she mutters. "We'll have to try and get our hands on one in the arena."

"Yeah. Lets just hope none of the careers get it first."

"How are we going to get sponsors?"

"Huh?"

"My mentor was talking about sponsors last night. And how it may not seem important at first. But, it's very unlikely for an unpopular tribute to win the games."

I sigh, "Sounds like high school all over again."

Clara nods, smiling a little. "Exactly like high school."

"Well, your mentor is working with you on how to make yourself most interesting. And you're a cool girl, so you should do great. And don't worry about me, I know I can pull some sponsors."

Clara nods. Smoke again emanating from her hands as the two sticks rub together.

I know I'm not the handsomest guy in the competition. But, I'm certainly not the ugliest. I'm really just a normal guy, with slightly messy black hair and pale skin. And although there are some dudes who are way too attractive to be real human beings, that's just their problem. I don't choose to dwell on the fact that they might out-sponsor me. Anyway, I have a little something called character, and mix that with a good sense of humor- sponsors should come easy.

I don't know why, but I have this feeling that Clara and I have this thing pretty under control.

**District 6: Anderson Piely (13) Pov-**

"Come on, just go a little further."

"I can't…my arms are killing me." I groan.

"Wow. You really suck at rock climbing. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, though, since you really suck at everything." Friesian shouts up to me.

"No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"You're annoying." Friesian folds his arms as I climb back down the wall.

"You're ugly." I spit back.

"Oh. How hurtful." Friesian feigns an offended look, and then rolls his eyes. "Maybe you can go memorize all the poisonous plants so you can actually be at all useful in the arena."

"Or maybe you can go do that."

"No. I'm going to practice the things I'm actually good at. And since you're no good at anything, why not learn a new skill?"

I let out a frustrated sigh, and clench my fist. Friesian crosses his arms, and makes his already tall frame grow a few inches, a glare in his eyes. I spin towards the wall and give it a good punch. There's a second of silence before I let out a scream, grabbing my hand.

"That _hurt_." I whimper. I expect Friesian to make a comment on what an idiot I am. But, he just grabs my hand, and takes a look at it.

"It's not broken," he mutters. "You'll be fine."

"I'm bleeding!" I remark, watching blood seep from the knuckles of my right hand. "I'm not okay! Go get help!"

Friesian rolls his eyes. "Don't start crying. Please."

"Is everything okay over here?"

Friesian and I get quiet as the boy from 5 pops up behind me. "You're injured?" He asks, and before I can respond, he grabs my hand, staring at the cut. A smile slowly cuts through his cheeks. His green eyes glisten.

I pull my hand from him.

"We're okay, thank you." Friesian growls. The boy nods, gives a polite bow, and disappears into the rest of the training room.

"Where the hell did he come from? I swear I didn't see him when you punched the wall." Friesian says. "Holy shit that dude is creepy."

"Did you see the way he was looking at my hand?"

"Yeah. How much do you want to bet that boy's a vampire?"

I let out a chuckle. "Imagine during the bloodbath a vampire boy running around and biting people. Now _that_ would be cool."

**District 12: Kasey Spalik (16) Pov- **

Despite the fact that it's the second day of training, Falcon still hasn't said one word to me. I would approach him, except he's not exactly _inviting_. Sometimes I'll stare at him and wait to catch his eye so I can start a conversation with him, but he never breaks his concentration from the dummy he's destroying.

When the lunch bell rings, Falcon sits at the table near the exit of the cafeteria. After deciding enough is enough, I stalk over to him, taking the seat across from him.

"Okay." I bring my voice to a whisper. "We have to start making a plan for the arena. Other partners are getting serious about this. And we want to be as strong as…hello…I'm speaking to you."

Falcon has turned his right shoulder to face me as he looks out at the cafeteria. He raises a brow as I grab onto his arm.

"As I was saying." I continue. He shakes himself free form my grasp. Though, now I have his attention. "We need to make a plan."

His fingers wrap around his water glass and he wipes his thumb across the condensation. "Why?" he asks.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't understand why you feel the need to plan with me."

"We're partners."

"And?"

"If you die…I die, remember?"

His expression doesn't change. He just raises his shoulders slightly in an uninterested shrug. "So?"

I press my lips together, swallowing. "What the hell is your problem anyway?"

"Nothing." His grey eyes remain indifferent, though not once does his gaze break from my face. Even his voice is calm. "You're the one interrogating me."

"So, me caring about keeping_ myself_ alive is interrogating _you_?"

He shrugs.

"Why are you being such a dick?" I ask.

He sighs, takes one more sip from his water glass and stands up, muttering something about how "Girls always make a huge deal out of everything". He dumps his mostly full tray in the trash and makes his way out of the training room. I hurry after him. He's not going to get rid of me that easily.

Once I leave the training room, I listen for the sound of footsteps. Falcon's a pretty quiet mover; I only hear a couple of faint scuffs to my left. And I figure he must be running, because they're getting quieter and quieter at an extremely rapid pace. The sound of the staircase door slamming reverberates through the hallway. I jog into the stairwell, and sprint up the steps, cursing silently because he's so fast. The footsteps don't stop until they reach the roof.

I take the steps two by two, shoving the door to the roof open so the doorknob clangs against the bricks outside. Falcon keeps his back to me; he leans over the side of the balcony, looking down into the streets of the capitol.

I clear my throat, crossing my arms.

"Why are you following me?" He doesn't turn around as he speaks.

"Okay…I get it…you're trying to prove you're a cool tough guy that no one should mess with. It's a good act. But, can you please just have one conversation with me so we can figure out how to not die in the bloodbath?"

"I'm not putting on an act." His voice is harsher than before. "Stop following me."

"No."

He finally tears his gaze from the beautiful view of the capitol. His grey eyes find mine, and I don't see the anger I expected to see. He looks younger than I remember. And something very tired flickers across his handsome face, making all the hostility and indifference he held before dissipate. "You're very stubborn," he mumbles. Even his words sound drained.

"Yes. I am." I move to the edge of the balcony, peering over the railing and into the colorful streets. "What are you doing up here, anyway?" I ask.

He blinks once. "I wish there was a game where I could watch all of _them_ die." He points to a group of tiny dots prancing through the streets. Their dyed hair and neon clothes flash in the midday sun. "Them and their bright pink hair and fluffy scarves stained with blood."

He sounds so disgusted as he speaks, I almost think he's going to be sick. But he just leans forward and drops his head, allowing his dark hair to sweep in front of his eyes. Something about his stance looks so dejected and dismal, I nearly feel _sorry_ for him. He must notice how pitiable he looks because he straightens up abruptly and glowers at me.

"Just leave me alone. I promise not to _die_." He spits the last word out. " And hopefully you're competent enough to do the same." He heads towards the door again, turning around once just to add. "And you better not follow me. I don't care what anyone says about not injuring other tributes before the games."

**District 3: Arianne Pixel (16) Pov-**

I toss my sheets off my bed as the strange creaking sound rips through my dark room again. Trying to get a good night's sleep was hard last night, and this night it seems to be near impossible.

"Skip? Is that you? Quit playing around. I'm trying to sleep." I whisper. Even though, Skip doesn't seem like the kind of guy to play midnight pranks on me.

"It's not Skip. It's Colton." The hushed voice comes from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?"

"Colton? What are you doing here? How the hell did you get in?"

"Easy, actually. I just came upstairs and opened the door. There's no one guarding it or anything," he answers. "And I thought we could use some more training." After a short silence, he whispers, "Can I come in?"

"Of course." I pad across the carpeted floor, creaking the door open. Colton stands there, still dressed in his training outfit. As he takes in my nightgown, his cheeks get a little red, and he clears his throat, as though uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you would be…"

"In my sleeping attire? I _am _supposed to be asleep right now."

"Right." He nods. "Well, I was thinking…if you're up for it, lets do some cardiovascular work."

I shrug. "Okay. Let me get my shoes."

Colton nods, shifting awkwardly in my doorway. It's funny how uncomfortable he is about the whole thing. I never took his as one of those innocent guys who gets all flustered when he sees a girl in a nightgown. He looks like the kind of guy that can get himself a lot of girls.

He follows me, as we tiptoe out of my room, and into the hallway. It's not until the elevator ride down that I break the silence.

"So what are we going to do?"

"I'll race you to around the building," he answers.

Part of me knows that won't be a good idea. Because of my condition. But, maybe if it isn't such a long distance around the building I'll be able to do it.

We shuffle outside of the training center and into the warm, spring night.

"First one back around to the front door wins," Colton says, already starting into a sprint. I have to trip into a run, catching up to him.

As I speed up, he scrambles, so as not to be left behind. I can tell he wasn't expecting me to be so fast. He tips his head forward, and slowly he inches his way past me. My shoes slam against the concrete and I begin to feel the familiar tightness in my chest. I know I should stop. But, I don't want him to think I'm weak, so I push forward.

We almost make it around the building before I have to stop. I slow down, trying to take in deep breaths. But, my chest doesn't suck in enough air. I begin gasping.

Colton stops running, barely breathing heavy at all.

"You okay?" He shouts back to me. I try to say I'm fine but all I can manage to choke out are a couple coughs that rack my whole body. I splutter, falling to me knees, trying to fill my aching lungs with oxygen. But, it's no use.

Colton hurries back over to me. I can't see the right half of his face because of the shadows the street lamps make. He crouches down so he can look into my eyes. "Arianne. Are you okay? Do you need me to get help?"

I shake my head.

His fingers wrap around my wrists and I can't pull away from him. "Put your arms up." He gently drapes my arms over my head. "It helps."

My lungs do seem to expand a little, and I desperately suck in the cool night air. After a while I let my hands fall to my sides again. I don't look at Colton. I don't want him to think I'm weak.

"You okay now?" He asks.

"I'm fine."

Colton sighs, clearly relieved. "You freaked me out there for a second."

"Well, I'm fine now." I snap.

We stand in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of speakers blasting some famous capitol song I don't remember the name of. People are still up celebrating. They're getting excited for the games that are growing nearer and nearer with each passing day.

"So, do you have asthma or something?" Colton asks.

I shake my head.

Colton frowns. I can tell he's staring at me, waiting for me to elaborate.

"I'm sick."

"With what? A cold?"

I can't help laughing. "I wish," I mumble. "It's a little more serious than a cold." I pull at a lock of my blonde hair, watching the curl spring bounce around when I give it a gentle tug. "I'm not going to get better without the proper medicine from the capitol."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Again a silence.

"So, you volunteered because you _had_ to?" Colton asks.

"Why the hell else would I volunteer to go into the games? You think I enjoy murdering people? You think I want to live the rest of my life remembering the horrors I face in the arena? _Obviously_ not."

"I don't know…some people volunteer because they want to." Colton shrugs. "Because they could use the fame and money."

"Yeah, but all those people are idiots."

At my words, Colton's whole body stiffens. He takes in a sharp breath. "I guess you're right. _I'm_ a real idiot, aren't I?" His tone is so horribly sarcastic and heated that for a moment I think he's going to hit me. But, he just crosses his arms, storming past me and back into the training center. "Goodnight, Arianne."

**Happy holidays, everyone reading! Again, sooo sorry for the long wait! But, the good news is I just got injured skateboarding so I'm going to have a lot of time to laze around and write :D Anyway, I know that in this chapter a lot of partnerships have been not too steady, but that doesn't mean that they for sure won't pull through once in the arena.**

**Answer to last question: The sword!  
**

**New Question: What was Tigris' diet in Mockingjay?  
**


	21. Training Day 3

**District 3: Skip Ryden (18) Pov-**

I lift the axe up by the tip of the handle, so the blade is suspended in the air.

"That's way too heavy to throw," Clarity says.

"Yeah. We don't want you taking off anyone's head," Riley adds. I shake my head, taking a deep breath.

"I'm not going to hurt anyone."

"You got to give the dude a chance. He is as strong as a…" Joey stops speaking for a moment, looking completely dumfounded as he searches for the right word.

"Gorilla?" Clarity finishes for him.

"Nah…gorillas are weird. If I compared Skip to a gorilla he would probably get pissed. Right?" Joey turns back to me.

"I wouldn't care," I reply, hardly focusing on a word the others are saying. "Now watch." I swing the axe back enough so that it picks up some force, and then hurl it towards the dummy.

"Holy crap," the boy from 4 whispers as a dummy head rolls over to the station he's at. I ignore the looks of awe and fear that occupy the faces of the surrounding tributes.

"That was _amazing_," Riley murmurs.

"Yeah. Incredible." Joey agrees, this huge grin plastered across his face.

"You got a lot of power in that arm of yours," an unfamiliar voice cuts in. The boy from 2 stands a few feet from the axe station. He has his arms crossed in front off his chest, an indifferent expression occupying his face.

"Thanks."

He blinks, then slips between Joey and Riley so he can approach me. He lowers his voice to a whisper. "You can join us if you want."

"Excuse me?"

"The other careers…" He motions to the group crowding by the knife station. "They think you would be a good asset to our group."

He waits for a moment, as though expecting me to drop down on my knees and sob and thank him for the brilliant opportunity. I take a step away from him, crossing my own arms.

"No thanks."

Jared blinks. "What?"

"I already have allies," I reply. Jared whips his head around so he can take in Riley, Joey, and Clarity.

"They're _all_ from outlying districts."

"And?"

"_We're_ from the top districts. We have training."

"So?"

"Fine. If you want to stick with wimps from the poor districts I'm not going to fight for you. I never wanted you anyway," Jared spits. As he turns around, Joey slips in front of Jared. Although Joey isn't a short guy, his almost six-foot frame certainly looks fragile next to Jared's bulky structure.

"Dude, if you want to diss district 7 you should probably do it to my face," Joey says, looking strangely confident as he stands across from Jared. The boy from 2 takes a step forward.

"Shut up, pretty boy," Jared sneers.

"Oh…so you think I'm pretty?" Joey smirks.

Jared whole back stiffens. The veins in his neck pop out a little. Obviously Jared had meant for the nickname to be degrading, but Joey is wringing the fun out of getting on Jared's nerves. Joey doesn't seem the least bit phased at Jared's furious exterior.

"Watch out, 7," Jared fumes. "You think you're safe now. But, as soon as we get into the arena…" He addresses the last part to all of us, "things are going to change."

He straightens himself up to his tallest height- I guess he's probably about 6 feet 5, which is still shorter than me- and walks back to the other careers.

There's a short silence. I stalk over to the axe, picking it up once again. Joey and Clarity wander over to the camouflage station.

"Skip?" Riley rests a hand on the axe's blade to stop me from hurling it across the room once again.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you want to join them?"

I study her expression. She doesn't look like she condemns my decision. She just seems curious. "Because I like our allies," I respond.

"Me too. It's just weird. Most tributes would do _anything_ to be one of the careers. Even if it means pretending to be part of their group just to kill them off. I'm just wondering why you're different; why you don't want to join them."

I let out a sigh. Riley's eyes look so understanding, like I could tell her the truth and she wouldn't think any less of me.

"When I was 14, my sister, Azura, was reaped. She made it to the final three. And the pair of careers from district 2 murdered her. And I promised myself I would have vengeance. I wouldn't join the careers, I wouldn't condone their malicious methods. And I would…" I stop talking. "Forget it."

"No. Tell me."

"You wouldn't understand."

"You don't know that unless you try me," She replies.

"I…I promised myself that I would kill the tributes from 2 if I ever got the chance. Just to let Azura rest in peace." I don't look at Riley. I don't want to see her expression. The one where she realizes I'm not just the happy, optimistic, nice guy all the time. I have a dark side.

"Of course I understand," She says. "I think you underestimate me, Skip." She says the last sentence with a tint of humor in her voice. "I'm not ignorant coming into this."

"What do you mean?"

"My brother died in the 95th games. Though, it was the girl from district 1 that turned on him. I can't say I hate Sparkle. But, I'll never be able to treat her like the other tributes." Riley lets out a breath, a thoughtful smile flickering on her lips. "My mother died at the hands of district 1 as well."

"Your mother? But…you…how is that possible?" I ask. "Did she have you before she was reaped?"

"I was born during the games," She replies. "Not that you would remember- it was before your time- but, the pregnant woman in the 82nd hunger games. She was my mother."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I have a kind of messed up family history, don't I?"

I press my lips together before letting out a soft laugh.

"What?" Riley asks.

"The girl born in the games," I say. "Has a nice ring, right?"

Riley smiles. "I guess you can get used to it."

"Riley Kramer." I shake my head. "If there's such thing as destiny, then I think you're destined to win."

* * *

**District 8: Kat Callaghan (15) Pov- **

"Look at me…I'm a dummy," Tommy smiles his dopey grin, sticking the mannequins head in front of his own. He staggers around the station while I focus on perfecting the knot I'm working on. When he trips over me and sprawls out onto the floor I let out an irritated sigh. "Oh…uh…sorry," he mutters.

"Yeah. Well…can you please just help me instead of goofing off the whole time?"

"I was just trying to make you laugh." Tommy sits up and stares at the robe in my hands. "I'm not so good with knots. But, I'm damn brilliant when it comes to getting physical." He pulls his sleeve up so he can show off his flexed bicep.

I stare for a second, before shrugging. "Okay. Well maybe you should practice combat with one of the trainers. I mean, it is the third day of training and I've only seen you actually concentrate for maybe ten minutes."

Tommy squints. "Can I say something?"

"Yes. There's nothing stopping you from speaking."

"Why are you so serious?" he asks. After I stare silently at the rope in my hands, he continues. "I'm going to protect you once the games start. I promise. Now, don't get so worked up. Just lighten up a little, okay?" His expression is sober. For once there isn't that cocky grin on his lips.

"I'll…try."

"Can I help?" he asks.

"Of course."

Tommy grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him. He presses his lips against my own for a second before pulling away.

"_What_ are you doing?" I choke out, looking around to make sure no one witnessed the kiss. Thankfully, none of the tributes are looking in our direction.

Tommy shrugs. "Thought that might get your mind of all this. Just make you a little less serious."

"But-"

"And you are kind of pretty."

I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out.

Tommy smiles.

* * *

**District 2: Jared Lynxx (17) Pov-**

"Well, forget _him_," Sparkle huffs. "Declining a spot in the career group. Who does he even think he is? Let's get him during the bloodbath."

"I'll kill him," I say, looking in the direction of Skip. "And his friend, 7."

"And their whole little group," Arianne adds.

"And my partner," I mutter under my breath.

"Yeah. What's wrong with your partner, anyway? He talks like he's from the 18th century. His politeness is infuriating."

I shrug. My plan is just to ignore Talen until the end. Hopefully he'll hide while I do all the killing and keep himself alive.

The boy from 9, I don't remember his name, is standing a few inches from our cluster. Brynn has invited him to practice with us. But, he seems so incredibly uncomfortable around us. He hardly ever speaks. And he always ends up standing alone while the rest of us discuss new names that have made it to our kill list.

"I thought being polite was a good thing," the boy mutters, looking down at his shoes. After he speaks, he looks slightly shocked, as though he can't believe he said those words out loud. I glare in his direction. He immediately smiles at me, straightening up. There is such fear in his eyes, such guilt. "S-sorry I wasn't trying to be rude," he chokes out.

I frown. Why is he afraid of me? I know I want the other tributes to take me seriously. But, the way the boy swallows nervously doesn't make me feel powerful. It just makes me feel sorry for him. He seems like such a nice guy, a nice guy in completely the wrong place. I decide I'll try and be nice to him until I kill him. "Don't worry about it. I know."

The boy nods, looking a little confused. He goes back to peering down at his shoes.

"Jared, if you kill your partner you're going to die, too," Colton says.

"I know. It was a joke." I roll my eyes. "I'm not actually going to kill the kid."

There's a silence. "What exactly happens to you if your partner dies?" The boy form 9 asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Your organs shut down. One by one. The last to give out is your heart," Arianne says, like it's really interesting. "As Lynette Diamonds said, it's a slow, painful death."

The boy swallows, nodding.

"If you died…" Colton says to Arianne, "I might as well just kill myself, so I don't have to struggle through the pain."

"I would never kill myself," Sparkle cuts in. "If my partner died I would try that much harder. If everyone dies before me, I can still win. Lynette also mentioned that it was a _slow_ death. Lasting about a day. I should be able to kill everyone else in a day."

Arianne lets out this chuckle, as though she's signaling her agreement. "It's never over until you're dead."

**My sincerest apologies for the awfully horribly disastrously long time since an update. I know that was awfully horribly disastrously annoying, and I'm going to try and make it up to you guys by updating a lot in the next week! Now, let's get to the questions. **

**Answer to last question: You all were right! Raw meat! I know- doesn't that sound delicious! Tigris seemed to want to be a cat. And they say you are what you eat...I guess one could consider cat raw meat. Though, i doubt Tigris was eating raw cat. So, I don't really know where I'm going with this train of thought. **

**New question: How many siblings does Peeta have? (Yeah. I know. I know. An easy one. Sorry)  
**


	22. Training Scores

**Just a quick update with the training scores! Next comes the interviews!**

**Colton Orsel: 9**

**Sparkle Uccello: 9**

**Jared Lynxx: 10**

**Brynn Carson: 9**

**Skip Ryden: 10**

**Arianne Pixel: 10**

**Tommy Scott: 9**

**Janette McKinley: 6**

**Talen Morton: 3**

**Sophie Merita: 7**

**Anderson Piely: 5**

**Hadley Paxton: 4**

**Joey Morel: 8**

**Clara Kinking: 5**

**Todd Brown: 4**

**Kat Callaghan: 7**

**Mikey Jonah: 6**

**Clarity May: 9**

**Friesian Wade: 6**

**Halley Morris: 8**

**Falcon Dide: 10**

**Riley Kramer: 10**

**Hunter Night: 8**

**Kasey Spalik: 8**


	23. The Interviews Part 1

**President Road Pov:**

Lynette Diamond bends forward in a deep bow. The audience roars. As she straightens up again, her bright pink hair swivels around her heart-shape face.

"Good evening," Lynette says, her clear voice calming the excited crowd. "Tonight you're going to get a chance to meet the tributes a little better, as a three minute interview is provided for each tribute. I'm excited. How about you guys?"

The audience hums with shouts and applauds.

"Then let's get started!" Lynette prances over to her purple chair, sinking into the plush fabric, looking incredibly comfortable. "First we have district 1's Colton Orsel!"

The audience screams so loud my head rings. I refrain from sticking my hands over my ears. The boy strolls onto stage, his blonde hair slicked back. He wears a white suit jacket with a rose in the pocket right over his chest. The bow tie around his neck shimmers. He's handsome, tall, and confident: the average career. And I can tell he already has a considerable amount of fans. The television screen shows a shot of some people in the back of the audience holding up a "District 1" poster, with a large picture of the boy. They're shouting something, most likely his name.

"Colton, how are you doing today?" Lynette asks as Colton takes a seat across from her.

"Well. Very well. Thank you."

"You enjoying the capitol?"

Colton nods. "Of course. The rooms are very comfortable. The food's great. I can't wait to come back here in a week."

"In a week? Ah. So, you're confident?"

"My partner and I have the games completely under control."

"Well, your training scores certainly support that idea. 9's are _ver_y high!"

The boy chuckles. His laugh is a little too modest to be cocky. But, he still gives the impression of being _very_ self-assured. I can certainly see him winning. He would be a good victor. I like career victors; they're always so loyal to the capitol. They're always so loyal to me.

"So, you have family back home?"

"Yeah. My parents."

"I'll bet they're very proud of their son."

Colton shrugs, "I hope so."

"Got a girlfriend?" Lynette blurts out, her words so rushed it's slightly comedic.

"Uh…" The boy hesitates.

"Or maybe there's someone you're lusting over from afar? I'm sure once you get back home you'll be able to get any girl you want."

Colton shakes his head. "Nah. If I like someone they know it. I'm pretty forward." He flashes a charming smile towards the audience.

"Why did you volunteer?"

"Because I know I can win. And I know I'm going to win."

The audience whistles. The confident career is always a good character in the games. And as the buzzer indicates the end of Colton's interview, another wave of applause flows through the room.

"And next we have the pleasure of hearing from District 1's Sparkle Uccello!"

It takes a long time for the clapping to disperse. Sparkle walks on stage in a floral print dress that ends mid-thigh. The ends of the pink sash around her waist drape down to almost the hem of the dress. Her brown hair cascades down her back in big curls. There are a couple whistles from the audience as the girl winks at the cameras. She sits down, crosses her legs, and smiles at Lynette.

"Well, don't you look beautiful." Lynette fauns over the girl.

"Thank you very much. I really like this dress. Too bad I'm not allowed to keep it."

"You're not?"

"No. Isn't that _awful_?" She pulls her eyebrows together in a slightly teasing pout. She laughs at the end. "I'm just kidding. I may be a girl but I don't care _that_ much about clothes."

Lynette grins. I can tell she likes the girl. "Glad to hear it, Sparkle."

"You can call me Spark," the girl says.

"Spark? Has an edge. I like it!" Lynette exclaims.

"Yeah. Sparkle is a little too girly. A little to…" the girl stops, searching for an appropriate word. "Jolly."

Lynette laughs. "And we don't want to be considered jolly."

"No." Sparkle shakes her head. "Once I get in that arena I'm going to prove I've got a not so sparkly streak in me. I don't mind getting my hands dirty." The girl speaks with a slightly flirtatious smirk on her lips, making her all that more intriguing.

"That's great!" Lynette says. "You got some plans for the arena already?"

The girl nods, and lets out this playful giggle. "But, I want it to be a surprise. Besides, I don't want to give anything away to the other tributes."

Lynette looks slightly disappointed. But, she shrugs. "We'll just have to wait."

The timer goes off. The girl gets another huge round of applause. She waves out at the audience as she walks off stage. I can already tell she's an excellent career tribute.

District 2's boy walks onto stage in a dark gold suit jacket. His black tie matches his shoes. Something about the abrasive gold of his suit reminds me of battle armor. He doesn't smile like the last two tributes. He makes no attempt to charm the audience.

"Jared Lynxx! Take a seat!" Lynette motions to the chair across from her. The boy sits down, his bulky frame making the seat appear miniature. I have to admit he certainly _looks_ like a menacing tribute. This one fact has provided him with a good fan base already. "Are you ready for the games?"

"Yes." He gives a slow, but very certain, nod.

"Are you excited?"

Jared shrugs. "I'm excited for when I win."

"Right. The fame and money."

Jared nods, crossing his arms in front of his chest, somehow making himself look even more intimidating.

"I have to say your training score was very impressive! How did you manage a 10?"

Jared shrugs. Lynette waits for him to speak, but the boy obviously plans on doing no such thing.

"You like your partner?" Lynette asks.

After a lengthily silence, Jared shakes his head. Again, he doesn't explain. He just looks out into the audience, his expression rather indifferent.

"What about the other tributes? What are your thoughts on them?"

He raises a brow. As if to say _you really want me to answer that?_ After a moment, Jared opens his mouth. The whole audience leans forward, waiting to hear his answer. Though, he only offers one word to describe the remaining tributes.

"Weak."

There's no time for him to explain. As the buzzer signals that the three minutes are up, Jared stands up. He walks off stage with a slow and grounded stride. Again, the audience is particularly voluble. He's the kind of tribute I would sponsor. He's one who doesn't joke around. And he'll definitely kill.

Every year there has to be a sober killer. That's what makes the games interesting.

"And here comes Brynn Carson!" Lynette announces.

Brynn waltzes onto stage. The sequins on her strapless dress glint in the stage lights. Even her gold shoes glitter. She waves her hand in a sweet wave, her smile so big it makes her look like a small child. It's hard not to like someone with such a genuine smile.

"What an incredible dress," Lynette murmurs. She gently touches the dress's crème bodice. "And what's that in your hair?"

Brynn stands up so she can turn around and offer a view of the peacock feather that's braided into her curly hair. The audience lets out a sigh of veneration. As the girl takes a seat again, she clasps her hands together, looking enthusiastic and excited.

"So, what do you think about the 100th hunger games?"

"Sounds great." She grins.

"And the twist?" Lynette asks.

"Certainly very entertaining. I have to say the gamemakers really came up with a good idea for the 4th quarter quell."

"What do you think about your partner?"

"Mikey? He's _wonderful_," She chirps. "I couldn't have asked for a better partner."

It's obvious that she probably could have asked for a better partner- one of the other careers. And one who didn't act like a lunatic during the reapings. But, the girl talks with such honesty, I almost believe she really does find her partner _wonderful_.

"What moment are you most looking forward to in the games?"

Brynn cocks her head to the right, giving the question some thought.

"Well, obviously when I win. The moment that I'm announced as the victor of the 100th hunger games. I can't wait!"

"Would you consider yourself confident?"

"Confident?" She tips her head back, letting out a perfectly sincere laugh. "I'm completely _certain _I'll be victor."

There are whistles from the audience. This girl is interesting. She's confident. And yet she seems like such an honest, likable person.

The buzzer goes before Lynette can ask another question. Brynn ambles off stage, making sure to make eye contact with a couple audience members. The applause continues even once the girl disappears back stage.

There's a moment before the boy from 3 makes an appearance. He wears a purple dress shirt. His black pants have silver running down in the pattern of a hard drive. He straightens his black vest as he reaches Lynette.

"Hello, Skip," Lynette says. She stands up to shake the boys hand. Her five feet and ten inches looking tiny compared to the guy.

"Oh Lynette, what a surprise to see _you_ here," he jokes, getting a good laugh from the audience. He sits down, a particularly dazzling smile on his lips.

"Tell me, Skip. What's your favorite thing about the capitol so far?"

"I would have to say either the buildings or the beds in the training center. They're _so_ comfortable."

"I'll say." Lynette laughs. "Met any interesting tributes yet?"

"Yes, actually. A couple."

"Any allies?"

Skip nods. "You'll see once the games start."

"I must admit I'm getting a little impatient. So much to look forward to, isn't there?"

Skip agrees. "It_ is_ the 100th hunger games. Kind of _has_ to be interesting."

"Can I ask you what you consider your greatest strength to be?"

"Depends. Can I show you?"

Lynette raises her eyebrows. "Sure. I guess. As long as you promise not to kill me."

He stands up and, before Lynette can protest, he picks her up. A rather flirtatious smirk surfaces on his lips as he looks down at her. "I guess I am _sort of_ strong," he shrugs.

The audience whistles and claps with delight as Skip places Lynette back on her feet with ease.

"Well…" Lynette smiles, pretending to catch her breath. "Remind me not to ask that question again."

The buzzer signals the end of his interview. He gets a great round of applause as he walks off stage.

"And next we have Arianne Pixel!" Lynette announces.

The girl from 3 walks onto stage with her right hand resting on her hip. She has an air of such confidence and poise. She wears a red taffeta skirt. A red corset shows off her slim frame. A red choker wraps around the smooth skin of her neck. Her orange heels beat the stage as she makes her way to Lynette. After the two share a handshake, Arianne sits down. Her eyes graze over the audience. Her grin grows even larger, so she can show off a set of very white teeth.

"Well, don't you all look beautiful," Arianne murmurs towards the audience. There are some claps from the more narcissistic members of the audience.

"_You_ look beautiful," Lynette says. Arianne laughs. And it's not a giggle like most girls usually offer. It's a real laugh. There's nothing flimsy or airy about the tone. Something about her is so grounded, so perceptible.

"Thank you," She replies.

"So, you earned a 10! That's an incredible training score!" Lynette says.

Arianne shrugs. "What can I say, I'm not an ignorant idiot when it comes to using weapons. Which separates me from a decent amount of the other tributes." She takes a moment before adding, sweetly. "No offense to them."

The audience laughs.

"So, what made you volunteer?" Lynette asks. "Your confidence? Talent? Maybe just that part of you that could really use the fame and fortune."

"Well, I wouldn't mind being rich," She smiles innocently. Lynette chuckles. "But, I know I can win. I know I'm going to win. And I want to represent district 3 well. As you have probably noticed, district 3 doesn't have the best track record with the games. I'm here to change that. I'm here to show everyone how the games are supposed to be played."

"And how is that?"

"Killing everyone else. Well, everyone other than my partner," She smiles as though she just thought of something mildly funny. But, she doesn't reveal what it is she's thinking of. She just adds, "Blood. Sweat. But no tears. And no regrets."

The buzzer goes off. Arianne jumps out of her chair, blowing a kiss to a particularly enthusiastic audience member.

The next tribute enters even before Lynette calls his name. He jogs onto stage looking completely ecstatic to be in front of Panem. His sapphire blue trousers and suit jacket almost glow by the lights on stage.

"Lynette!" The boy gives her a rather weird-looking handshake before sitting down. "What's up?!"

"I'm all right, Tommy. How are you?"

"Brilliant! I can't wait to get into the arena and get closer to being victor."

"Excited?"

"Yes! I'm going to be the best victor. Ever." He clasps his hands together, getting ready to explain. "I'm going to cancel school for everyone and I'm going to make Saturday…" He stands up and shouts the last part at the top of his lungs, "mandatory party day for _everyone_ in Panem!"

The audience whistles, a couple people standing up to show their approval.

Lynette allows for the celebration to go on for a moment while Tommy keeps shouting other random things out towards the audience about being victor. At one point I'm pretty sure he hollers, "Vote for me!" Which means the kid either has a great sense of humor or has no knowledge whatsoever on the hunger games. I decide the first is true because I find the mindset of "Smart until proven stupid" to be helpful when getting to know the tributes.

"Well, that sounds like a good plan," Lynette starts, "Except, I don't believe victors quite have _that_ much power."

Tommy looks completely stumped for a moment, before he thinks up a comeback:

"Then I'll _make_ victors have that power!"

"I take that you're confident going into the games?"

"Oh, Lynette," He raises his eyebrows. "You haven't yet seen my amazing knife-throwing skills. I'm out-of-this-world talented. I don't mean to brag or anything but I did get a _9_ in training."

"Are we going to see any of your knife-throwing skills during the bloodbath?" Lynette asks.

"Definitely."

Once Tommy's interview ends, he struts off stage, beaming.

His partner shuffles onto stage, her presence a harsh contrast to his own. She has her arms crossed in front of her chest. She doesn't even try a smile. Her expression is blank. She doesn't look frightened. She doesn't look uncomfortable. She almost looks angry. Though, I can't quite figure out how to read her facade.

She wears a silk, purple dress. And her skin glitters by the stage lights, which causes the audience to let out some gasps. Something about the way her face glistens makes her seem like a being from another planet.

"You look incredible, Janette," Lynette murmurs, watching the girl take a seat. Janette only shrugs, her attention fixated on a couple of particularly loud audience members. "How do you like the capitol?"

Janette presses her lips together. "Very…colorful." She doesn't say anything else.

"How are your feelings on the upcoming games?"

The girl makes eye contact with Lynette, her expression still slightly apathetic. "I'm not scared," she mutters.

"Not scared?" Lynette grins, "Then are you excited?"

The girl doesn't answer with words. Instead, after a long silence in which she stares at the camera to her left, she does some type of shrug to answer the question.

"I'll take that as a…yes?" Lynette leans in closer, perhaps thinking the girl will give an answer if she does so.

"I already told you I'm not scared," the girl snaps. Her tone isn't really mean, but it sure contains some irritation. "I'm going to do what I have to do to win."

"And what is that?"

She shoots something that resembles a rather toned-down glare in Lynette's direction. "You already know."

For a moment Lynette doesn't have a reply. She merely pauses, her mouth hanging open. "You mean you're going to kill?"

"I'm going to do what I have to."

The girl's lack of a real answer makes her rather intriguing. She's very mysterious. And I want to know more about her. Is she one of those disguised killers? The ones you think wont offer much of a fight and then end up in the final few? Or is she just a very quiet tribute?

But three minutes doesn't prove to be anywhere near enough time. As soon as the buzzer goes Janette walks off stage. Much like the boy from 2, she doesn't acknowledge the audiences existence as she exits. I wait eagerly for the next tribute's entrance.

**The first 8 interviews done! Only 16 more to go! (Yes- that is a lot isn't it?) But the games are **_**so **_**close now! How do you guys like these tributes so far? **

**Answer to last question: Peeta has 2 siblings. **

**New Question: What color makeup does Caesar Flickerman wear during the interviews of the 74****th**** hunger games? (Hopefully this one is a bit more of a challenge than the previous one). **


	24. The Interviews Part 2

"Let's have a round of applause for Talen Morton!" Lynette shouts.

The boy from 5 enters, wearing a light yellow button down shit. He straightens his pink and green striped tie as he walks towards Lynette. The tips of his brown hair sparkle.

"Talen. How are you this evening?"

"Splendid. Might I add that you look simply ravishing in that gown of yours."

"Thank you. You're looking very sharp yourself."

"Yes. Well my stylist and prep team are incredibly gifted in what they do. I should suggest a round of applause for their expertise."

The audience complies. The hum of appreciation fills the room.

"Talen, I have to ask, why did you volunteer?" Lynette asks. The room gets silent, ready to listen.

"This innocent boy was reaped. He looked so distressed, so timorous. I knew it wasn't right to let him go into the games. I had to take his place."

A collective sigh of admiration flows through the audience.

"That's very heroic," Lynette says.

"Thank you. But, I'm not attempting to be any type of hero. I just know that I must donate my life to making the world a better place, one of humanity and camaraderie. I know the boy I volunteered for will value his life that much more now."

"You're an incredibly noble boy, Talen. Sounds like you have a clear set of morals."

"Yes. But, don't count me out of the competition, Lynette. I may only be fifteen, but I have faith in myself." A smile slowly draws across the boys face. "And I think everyone should have _faith_ in me."

"_I_ certainly think you can go far," Lynette replies. I'm sure she's lying. The boy _did_ earn the lowest training score. I wonder what he possibly could have done to receive such a bad score.

"Yes." The smile on the boys face is so picturesque, so perfect. He almost looks like a doll. "And everything is not as it seems."

His last sentence confuses me, along with the rest of the room. But, Lynette doesn't have time to ask a follow up question. The buzzer goes off. Talen stands up, tucks his hands in his pockets, and after a bow of the head towards Lynette and a dazzling smile out to the audience, he makes his way backstage.

"And next let's have a round of applause for Sophie Merita!"

The room fills with the buzz of appreciation. The girl that walks onto stage is the smallest of the last 8. She offers a rather timid smile towards the cameras as she shuffles towards Lynette. A white silk dress hugs her skinny frame. Emeralds decorate her waist. Her dark hair hangs down her shoulders in ringlets and a small, white circlet, that greatly resembles a halo, is attached to her head. The audience lets out a collective sigh. The girl looks like a gentle angel.

"My, don't you look special," Lynette comments, taking in the way the girl delicately sits down in the seat across from the host.

"Thank you." Sophie pulls her lips into an innocent smile. "The dress is very soft." The girl speaks with in very careful tone. She is such contrast from most other tributes. This girl truly still is a child. Just a little girl.

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm all right," she says softly. "The capitol really is very incredible. I've never seen buildings so big. It's very impressive."

"I'm glad you think so," Lynette replies. "You know, I was quite amazed that you pulled a 7 for a training score. That's a pretty high score!"

Sophie shrugs, whispering a modest "thanks."

"Do you have any ideas on what the arena is going to be like?"

The girl shakes her head. "I wouldn't know. Wouldn't even know where to begin to guess."

"Any wishes?"

"Hopefully there's going to be a forest in the arena."

"A forest? You like trees?"

"Forests are good places to disappear," Sophie says. After a moment, she adds, "And no one can kill me if no one can find me."

The buzzer goes off.

"Well, it was great talking to you, Sophie. Good luck tomorrow!" Lynette shakes Sophie's hand again just before the girl exits.

"Next we have Anderson Piely!"

The boy from six walks onto stage with his hands shoved into the pockets of his khaki trousers. He wears a red plaid vest over a navy blue shirt. The ends of his dark hair are curled. Lynette holds out her arm to shake the boys hand. But as the boy pulls his hands from his pockets, a bandage becomes visible.

Lynette chooses to ignore the boy's injury. Starting with the crowd favorite: "So Andy, how do you like the capitol?"

"It's cool." The boy shrugs. "Though I don't really get what's with all the weird hairdos."

Lynette laughs."I guess pink hair isn't that popular in district 6."

"It's not." The boy shakes his head. Then he grins. "But I think it looks nice on you."

"Oh thank you, honey," Lynette says. "Been getting along with your partner?"

"Ugh." The boy lets out a sigh.

"I'll take that as a no?"

"The guy is a complete _buffoon_. He thinks he's stronger than me. But, I'm _way_ stronger than him. I'll have you know I could beat him in an arm wrestle_ any_ day."

"Well, it's nice to see that you've got faith in yourself." Lynette smiles. "You don't mind me asking- what happened to your hand?"

"Oh," Anderson looks down at the bandage wrapped around his right hand, squinting his grey eyes slightly. He hesitates and then lets out one of the most awkward chuckles I've ever heard in a tribute's interview (which is saying a lot since I've heard a great deal of very bizarre chuckles). "You know, the usual…defective equipment in the training room."

I think it's painfully obvious to everyone in the room that the boy is a particularly horrendous liar. But, Lynette goes along with the lie.

"That's awful. I hope it heals really fast."

"Yes. And…" The boy grins. "I'm sure it would feel a _lot_ better if you'd kiss me."

The audience goes crazy at the boy's request.

Lynette's jaw drops. "Honey, I'm a…a little…_way_ too old for you."

"Oh please, I get with older woman. Actually, the last girl I got with was 26," he announces proudly.

The guys behind me start cheering, because they're the kind of citizens that love a really messed up tribute. The lady in front of me shakes her head muttering about how poor the boy is.

Lynette quickly changes the subject to Anderson's views on the other tributes. The boy takes the next half-minute to complain about how stupid all the other tributes are and how he knows he's going to win because none of the other tributes even have _brains_. It's no doubt the kid is a little past cocky.

The boy winks at Lynette as he exits, causing the audience to go crazy again.

The boy's district partner makes her way onto stage sporting a V-neck dress. Strips of fabric reading the names of past victors are sewn into the dark blue fabric. Her long blonde hair is pulled into a classy bun.

"Hadley Paxton!" Lynette announces.

The blonde, unlike most of the tributes, doesn't shake Lynette's hand. She goes ahead and wraps her arms around the host.

"I do hugs," Hadley says when she pulls away, an amiable smile on her lips.

"That's great. So do I!" Lynette replies, taking a seat.

"Your dress is wonderful, Lynette!" The girl chirps.

"Hey, I'm supposed to say that to you! Are you trying to steal all my lines from me?" Lynette jokes.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"It's all right. Now…Hadley you look very beautiful tonight. Your outfit is very original!"

"Thank you. My stylist is responsible for the dress. And I can't thank her enough!"

"Yes, it certainly is most impressive. How many victor names are on it?"

"All of them," the girl announces, proudly.

"Well, hopefully you're name will be among theirs soon," Lynette says with a smile. "Now, you mind if I change the subject? How do feel about being a tribute?"

"The capitol is absolutely lovely! I couldn't have imagined a place so beautiful. But, I am very sad that I have to leave district 6 and everyone I love."

"You got a special someone back home?"

The girl grins even bigger. "Yes. His name is Markus and he's perfect."

"I'm sure he's watching right now. If there's anything you want to say to him now's the perfect moment."

She looks towards the camera. "Markus, I love you and I'm going to try and win for _you_."

Lynette, along with the rest of the audience let's out a sigh because everyone loves a romantic tribute. Those passionate tributes have something to win for. As the girl exits she gives Lynette one more hug.

"And next we have Joey Morel!" Lynette announces. She grins as she watches the boy from 7 saunter towards her. A couple girls in the row behind me start whispering excitedly. The boy is looking just as handsome as ever in a white silk shirt, a light blue fur jacket and black trousers. He runs a hand through his brown hair as he takes a seat, appearing relaxed. The crowd starts to hush as Lynette shifts in her seat, getting ready to speak. "How are you doing?"

"Good." Joey leans forward a little. "And how are _you_, Lynette?"

"I'm doing very well. The interviews are one of my personal favorite parts of the pre-game activities."

Joey raises a brow. "What? Because you're on T.V?" This earns a good rumble of laughter from the audience. Lynette chuckles herself, resting a hand on Joey's knee.

"Something like that," she mutters. "So…I'm just going to go ahead and ask for the sake of the girls in the audience. You got a girlfriend back home?"

Joey shakes his head. "No."

"Really?! I know a whole lot of girls who that makes _very_ happy."

There are some shrieks from behind me. Joey's lips twist into a charming half-smile.

"How's your family holding up back home, you think?" Lynette asks.

That smirk slowly slides from the boy's lips. He looks down at his hands. "Okay, I guess."

"Can you tell me a little about your family?"

There's a silence. The boy leans back into the chair, looking much more uncomfortable than he had a minute earlier. "I live with Katherine."

"Katherine? She your mother?"

Joey shakes his head. After what looks like a moments hesitation, he mutters, "Mother's dead."

"Oh. That's awful,' Lynette says, pulling her brows together in sympathy. "What about your father?"

"Also…" he clears his throat, uneasily. "Dead."

"Oh dear. I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's okay," he says, the charming smile taking over his face again. Though, it doesn't quite reach his eyes. They remain a deep striking blue, unlike the light, effortless color they were before. "I mean, it's not all that bad. I don't have to deal with parents nagging me or grounding me or any of that annoying stuff."

Lynette throws her head back, laughing. "Right. That's definitely convenient for a sixteen-year old," She says. "But before we run out of time, I do have something I've been dying to ask you. What was the reason for your…performance during the chariot rides?"

Joey grins. "It was a dare. And I can't say no to a _dare_. That would be…just…_wrong_." He looks out into the audience, as though searching for something. Then he makes eye contact with me. "Besides, I think Mr. President and I had a good exchange."

A couple people in the audience careen their necks so they can look at me. I keep my expression blank.

As Joey's buzzer goes off he gets an incredibly vociferous round of applause.

The girl from 7's heels clank as she walks onto stage. She wears a black dress with dark grey animal print that hugs her slim frame. Dark sequins glitter as the light catches the dress. Her long red locks tumble down her back and she pulls her lips into a charming smile, waving towards the audience.

"Clara Kinking! Please, have a seat!" Lynette motions to the chair across from her. Clara crosses her long legs in front of her.

"Lovely dress. You're looking very stylish," Lynette remarks.

"Thank you!" Clara grins.

"So, how have you been? It must be weird to suddenly be in the capitol when just last week you were in district 7."

Clara nods. "It's definitely strange. I mean, the only similarity between district 7 and the capitol is that the inhabitants of both are human beings."

She gets a chuckle from the audience.

"But I've been perfectly fine with all the changes," Clara continues. "I know it's already been said countless times, but the capitol really does have incredible architecture. I feel very lucky that I've witnessed so many grand structures these last few days. And I really like the people. Everyone here is so original, so unique."

I can feel the audience is really starting to get on this girl's side. Who can resist a tribute that makes you feel good about being a citizen of the capitol?

"You and Hunter, huh? How's it going?" Lynette asks.

"We're definitely a good pair. He knows what he's doing. And I can assure you all that we're definitely going to give these games our all."

"That's good to hear. I love a good team," Lynette remarks. "What do you think about the competition this year? Any tributes that have caught your eye?"

"There certainly are some talented kids this year."

Her buzzer goes right before she can say anything else. She shrugs in Lynette's direction, then gets to her feet. A very respectable round of applause accompanies the girl's exit.

"And next let's welcome to the stage Todd Brown!"

The audience hushes as the boy from 8 shuffles onto stage. He wears an old fashioned suit that seems a tad big on him. This only makes his youthfulness appear more prominent to the audience.

He almost skips to Lynette.

"Todd! Please sit down. How are you?"

"Good! Thanks for asking!" Even the boy's voice is young and sweet.

"Now, Todd, why don't you tell me about yourself. What do you do back in district 8? Do you have any talents you'd like to share?"

He thinks for a moment. "I can touch my tongue to my nose."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh." He nods. "Wanna see?"

"Sure," Lynette chuckles. Todd takes a deep breath before sticking his tongue out of his mouth. He clenches his eyes shut in concentration as the very tip of his tongue lightly taps his nose. Once he finishes, this huge grin spreads across his face. I'm struck by how honestly happy he looks.

Lynette stands up, acting completely shocked.

"Amazing! Unbelievable! Did you guys see that?" Lynette addresses her question to the audience. "I don't know…I think we're just going to have to crown Todd as victor right now!"

Todd laughs himself, sounding a disconcerting amount like my little girl, Matilda. I push this thought out of my head.

The girl from 8 enters wearing a knee length dress that hugs her thighs. The indigo fabric glistens as it makes contact with the light. The fabric is covered with diamonds. Her shoes are made of glass. They reflect the light almost like they're made of mirrors. Even her hair shimmers as she takes a seat across from Lynette.

"Kat Callaghan!" Lynette says, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Welcome to the interviews! Have you been watching the other interviews backstage?"

"Yeah. Well, sort of. I've also been thinking really hard about what I'm going to say."

"Nervous?"

"Honestly. I was just most nervous about the walk to the chair. I just didn't want to trip over these bulky shoes. Because that would be a bad start to an interview," She speaks so seriously, like she isn't trying to be funny. Lynette laughs anyway.

"I think that happened to one of the tributes last year."

"Yeah. The boy from 10, I think."

"Oh right!" Lynette grins, and turns to look out at the audience. "If I remember that boy had quite a funny death as well. Wasn't he the one that tripped onto the tip of his own spear?" Lynette chokes out the last word, almost losing all her words to a fit of giggles.

The audience bursts into laughter at this. I do remember that death. Definitely made the top fifty deaths in the hunger games, though I wouldn't have put it in the top ten.

Lynette finally composes herself to look back at the girl. Kat smiles softly. Though, she doesn't laugh.

"You remember that death, right?" Lynette asks Kat.

The girl nods. "I just didn't think it was all that funny," she answers. Her tone isn't spiteful or argumentative. It's deeply honest.

"Callaghan. I recognize that last name. You had a brother in the games, right?"

Kat smiles. Though she doesn't look particularly happy. "Yes."

"Does your brother's death help fuel your vengeance?"

"Vengeance?" the girl repeats. "No. I'm not an unforgiving person. I don't…I won't hurt other people. I am not vengeful."

The buzzer goes off before Lynette can ask any more of the girl. Kat offers a bow of the head to the audience, and walks off stage.

**The games are drawing nearer and nearer! Terribly sorry again for the long wait. **

**I want to thank ****LilacFields **for designing all the interview costumes as well as the chariot costumes! Isn't she amazing?! I also want to thank so many of you for reviewing.  


**Answer to last question: ****Caesar Flickerman **wears white make-up during the interviews. (Yeah- probably looked very weird). 

**New question: I'm going to change up the question a little bit for this chapter. This next question you'll have to guess on. Next chapter one of the tributes is going to have their interview at the end of the night. But it won't be either of the tributes from district 12. Confusing, right? But, it will make sense once you read the chapter. If you can guess correctly which tribute's interview will be last, I'll give you twenty points because I'm feeling generous and the games are quickly approaching. And there are only 6 tributes to choose from, so why not give it a try? **


	25. The Interviews Part 3

"And now let's have a round of applause for Mikey Jonah!" Lynette announces. The audience complies, whistles and shouts coming from behind me. The applause continues for the next minute. However no tribute makes an entrance. Lynette repeats her introduction one more time. The boy again does not appear.

A stagehand wanders onto stage, and beckons Lynette towards him. He whispers something in her ear. Her dark black eyebrows come together in worry. After the stagehand disappears backstage, my best peacekeeper gets up from his seat to see what's taking so long.

Lynette takes the time to say something about there being some technical difficulties. Then she starts entertaining the audience with a couple of jokes. I tune her out, focusing on the peacekeeper coming back towards me.

"Word is one of the tributes passed out," he says. He brings his eyebrows together. "How pathetic."

Lynette walks off stage, returning half a minute later. "It appears that we have a sick contestant," she says. "But, we'll continue the interviews with Clarity May!"

There are some whispers that run through the audience. They're skipping the boy from 9? Or are they coming back to him? A tribute's interview has never been skipped before.

Clarity is definitely a beautiful girl. She enters wearing a long sleeved lime green dress that sweeps the floor as she walks elegantly across the stage. Her long dark hair runs down her back, her red lips are sculpted into a flawless smile. She should make a number of the capitol males pretty happy.

"Lynette," the girl nods in greeting as she takes a seat across from the host. "Well, this is a nice chair." She remarks, looking down at the purple seat. "_Very_ comfortable. What do you say we just call the interviews off and let me stay here the rest of the night?" She grins as the audience laughs.

"Brought your sense of humor didn't you?"

"Oh yes. You want some?" Clarity puts her finger behind her ear as though about to pull something out.

"You should keep it. You'll be able to use it better than me, anyway. I don't have a funny bone in my body."

"What? Who told you that? I've been watching from backstage and I think you're absolutely mirthful, Lynette."

"Thanks you, Clarity," Lynette replies. The girl shrugs, running a hand through her beautiful dark hair.

"Don't mention it," she says, a playful glint in her green eyes.

"So, Clarity, explain to me how you pulled a_ 9 _in training!"

The girl's grin grows even larger. "I have my ways."

"What do you think about your competition this year?"

Clarity takes a moment to mull over the question. "I think there are some very strong and very smart tributes. And I wouldn't count _anyone _out." Clarity certainly has one of the kinder answers to that particular question. After a short silence, she says very softly, "I don't think winning will be easy. But, I'm going to do everything I can to win."

As the girl's interview comes to an end, a group of teenage boys go insane clapping for her. She blows a quick kiss to one of the boys closest to the stage. The camera focuses on the boy as he pretends the catch the kiss, a huge grin on his face.

"Put your hands together for Friesian Wade!" Lynette shouts as the boy from 10 enters. He wears a gold suit that shines and glares in the stage lights like a second skin or an aura. He takes off his suit jacket as he takes a seat; probably because he wants to show off his rather impressive build for a thirteen-year-old. He pulls a rather unattractive half-smile as he makes eye contact with Lynette. "Hello, Friesian. How are you this evening?"

"I'm fine."

"Have you been watching from backstage?"

"Yes."

Lynette smiles. "So, how are you liking the capitol?"

"It's nice," he replies.

"You miss home?"

"No."

"Really? Well…that's convenient. You won't have to worry about homesickness getting to you."

"Yes. I won't." Friesian nods, curtly.

"Are you looking forward to the games?"

"Yes."

. "What aspect are you most looking forward to?"

"Seeing the arena."

"Are you nervous?"

"No. I'll win."

He continues answering her questions quickly, but without any elaboration. He's completely present during his interview, and yet there's something about his presence that suggests he really couldn't care less about speaking in front of the capitol. When his interview ends, he again puts on that unpleasant smile and shuffles off stage.

His partner, Halley, enters with a much more enthusiastic expression. She has a bounce in her step, an energy that helps revitalize the air after Friesian's very disinterested interview. She wears an aquamarine velvet dress with patterns made of pink lace. Her hair has been styled into a jumble of intricate twists, curls, and braids. A silver barrette sparkles in her brown hair.

"Halley Morris! It's a pleasure to see you."

"I'm super happy to see you too, Lynette," Halley says, smiling. "I've really been enjoying the capitol. It's very beautiful."

"I'm glad you've been enjoying yourself," Lynette replies. "You miss your family?"

"Oh Yes. I miss my father and my little brother, Joey. I miss them both so much."

"I'm sure they miss you, too," Lynette wears a slightly sad smile. "So…Halley…you got anyone special back home? And I'm not talking about your family. I mean a…special someone…" Lynette has that smile on. That excited, slightly devilish smile. The same kind of smile all women get when they talk about the crushes and other such time wasters. Halley shakes her head quickly, a blush appearing on her cheeks.

"No."

"Really? I see you blushing, girl. Come on, tell me. You're a very pretty girl. I'm sure whoever it is will be _very_ happy to hear you like them."

"No. Really. It's no one." For the first time since the girl has walked on stage, she looks sad. Her lips turn down at the sides a little, and something very profound lies in her blue eyes.

"Do you have any talents the other tributes should watch out for?'

"Yes." The smile returns to the girl's face. "I have sticky fingers."

"Sticky fingers? Not literally, right?" Lynette asks, feigning a look of revulsion. The audience laughs.

Halley shakes her head, holding her hand up. "I mean that I'm stealthy. And I'm very good at staying unnoticed."

"That certainly is a good trait to have when you're in the games."

The buzzer goes off, and the girl exits stage to a respectable round of applause.

"And next let's welcome Falcon Dide!"

The boy from 11 enters wearing a brown suit. As he walks, his suit begins to change from the brown color of soil to the healthy green of plants. Somehow the lights on stage manipulate the colors. The audience lets out gasps of awe. His dark hair has been slicked back and the hat he wears casts a shadow across his handsome face.

"Welcome!" Lynette chirps as Falcon takes a seat. He nods in her direction, though does not actually utter a greeting.

"I have to ask, since your exit to the feast was quite something, what did the boy from district 1 say to you that night?"

"Nothing," he mumbles.

"Really? It didn't look like nothing. Usually people don't randomly jump out of their chairs and try to strangle other people over nothing."

The audience chuckles. Falcon doesn't even smile. Instead this dark glower oozes from his grey eyes.

"I said it was nothing." His tone is a little less passive than the first time. And though he still remains soft, there's a lot of heat in his words.

"Okay." Lynette clears her throat, quickly thinking of a new conversation topic. "I like your outfit. You're looking very handsome."

Falcon mumbles something I don't hear, probably an indifferent "thanks."

"You have family back home?"

Falcon nods.

"Is there anything you want to say to them right now? They're probably watching."

"No."

"Nothing? Not even an "I miss you" or an "I love you?"

The boy shakes his head.

K doesn't let the silence drag on for long. "Do you feel like training was helpful? You got an amazing training score! How'd you manage a 10?"

Falcon shrugs. "The gamemakers gave me what they thought I deserved."

The buzzer rings. He walks off stage without offering so much as a smile to the audience.

"Next we have Riley Kramer!"

The girl that walks onto stage wears a sleeveless dress completely covered in red roses. The hem of her bright dress fans out in such a way that it looks as though rays of the sun swish against her cream shoes. Her bronze hair is pulled back into a bun. She looks beautiful and elegant.

Lynette shakes the girls hand, before taking a seat across from the tribute.

"How are you holding up, Riley?"

"Magnificently. I don't think I've ever tasted lamb stew that's so delicious."

The audience emits a collective set of laughs.

"You're making my mouth water," Lynette says, grinning. Riley raises a brow, smirking. Lynette licks her lips quickly. "If you don't mind me asking…your last name…Kramer. Your mother…was she…"

"Isabella Kramer. Yes." Her dark red lips shimmer in the stage lights.

"No way! What a coincidence: The girl born in the games is reaped!" Lynette chirps, barely being able to contain her vivacious excitement. "And…I believe your brother was here a few years back?"

"Yes. Alaric. Five years back."

"You've got quite a family history with the games, isn't that right?"

"We do have quite a relationship. Two family members have lost to the games." Riley says. "But I'm number three. And they say the third time is the charm." This radiant smile seeps over her lips, and her eyes glow in an almost flirtatious manner. "Right?"

"Absolutely!" Lynette agrees. "And you've already been in the games."

Riley nods, "Somehow that's peculiarly consoling."

"As it should be," Lynette assures the girl. "So, Riley, when you're not getting _10's _in training what do you like to do?"

Riley thinks for a moment. "I like to do a lot of things."

"Pick one."

"I dance."

"She looks like a dancer, doesn't she?" Lynette asks the audience. There are whistles of agreement.

"Now, tell me, you have any secret tactics for the games?"

Riley takes a moment to think. "Yes."

"Well that's awesome. What are they?"

"If I told you it wouldn't exactly be a secret, would it?" Riley asks.

Lynette opens her mouth, but the buzzer rings before she can respond.

"One last round of applause for Kramer! Our girl born in the games!"

The audience fills with cheers.

The boy from district 12 jogs onto stage. I quickly realize why he's running. The friction of his arms rubbing against the fabric causes orange sparks to shoot from the black suit. I almost expect him to catch on fire. But he does no such thing.

He brings the two fingers on his right hand to his forehead in a salute to the audience.

"What's up Panem?!" He grins at the camera in front of him. The audience applauds as the boy takes a seat across from Lynette.

"Hunter Night," Lynette says once the audience silences. "That's quite a name."

"Yeah. Well, I'm quite a person," Hunter shrugs, a grin stretching across his cheeks all the way to his ears. His tone is more humorous than cocky.

"So, what did you think when you were reaped?"

Hunter pulls his eyebrows together. "Honestly?"

Lynette nods. "Yes please."

"I was happy I wouldn't have to go to school on Monday,"

This earns a good laugh from the audience. The boy does well dodging the question. This kid certainly has charisma.

"Anyway," Hunter continues, "I knew I could take the challenge. I never take the easy way out. Of _anything_. And I will never give up."

"Persistence. That's a very important trait to have in the games," Lynette says. "Any interesting allies?"

The boy shakes his head. "I don't want to deal with the sticky situation once I have to kill them." The boy leans closer to Lynette to add, "And I mean that literally. Blood is _really_ sticky."

This earns a laugh from the audience.

"Yeah. You don't really want that on your hands." Lynette agrees.

"But sometimes you don't have much of a choice," Hunter says. "And I'll do whatever I have to do to make it to the end."

When Hunter's interview ends, he gets to his feet and raises his right eyebrow at Lynette.

"Now for the best exit you're going to see all night…" he announces, before starting into a sprint. This time flames really do burst from his jacket. The audience whistles and hoots as the flaming boy disappears backstage.

The girl from 12 doesn't smile as she enters. Her silver-blue eyes sweep through the audience, a mysterious look on her face. Her dress is almost as dazzling as her district partner's suit. The blue fabric hugs her body, and the silver sparkles that catch the light hold a close resemblance to the starry night sky. The audience again lets out contented sighs as the girl glimmers.

She sits across from Lynette, saying a brief, "Hello."

"Kasey Spalik! Your dress is amazing!"

"Thanks," the girl replies, then she looks back out at the audience. She makes eye contact with just about every person in the first few rows. Her gaze makes me slightly uncomfortable. There's something very real, something very honest and something very angry in her eyes. Not the ugly kind of anger. The beautiful kind. The kind that makes a person's whole face glow.

Lynette asks the girl many standard questions, each of which Kasey answers each with a "yes" or a "no." Any questions pertaining to her home life she answers with a shrug. She only stops to elaborate slightly and say, "I don't mind killing," when Lynette asks Kasey what her game plan is. The girl seems set on remaining as enigmatic as possible.

But it's a good tactic. Because she certainly is intriguing.

As her interview comes to an end, Kasey exits without offering Lynette the customary smile or handshake the other tributes awarded the host. It's not particularly rude. But it certainly isn't very polite. Kasey doesn't seem to care as applause fill the theater. She just walks off stage, her stroll casual. That honest, hateful look remains in her eyes.

"Now we're going to have Mikey Jonah from district 9!" Lynette announces.

This time the blonde walks onto stage. He's in a silk brown button-down shirt, his hands shoved into the pockets of his white slacks. His hair has been gelled back to make him look older. He certainly looks very handsome. And he doesn't appear ill at all. Of course, that may just be as a result of the make-up artists. They can make even a person on his deathbed look healthy.

"You all right?" Lynette asks as Mikey sits down across from her.

"Yeah. I'm all good," he replies.

"Glad to hear it. Now. I have to ask…are you into poetry?"

A large percentage of the audience laughs at this. The boy seems to freeze. And I think he really stops breathing for a moment. After a second where his brown eyes look so far past nervous, a very anxious smile reveals his front teeth.

"Uh…no. Not at all." He shifts in his chair, uncomfortably. "I was…you should just understand…I was...well…not myself at the reapings." He bites his lip as he glances at Lynette, as though he expects her to burst out laughing or something.

"No worries. Although I will admit I was a little disappointed by the fact that you didn't perform for us during the chariot rides. Because you were definitely very entertaining during the reapings."

The boy lets out a soft, breathless, laugh. "Oh. Well. I guess I'm not usually quite that entertaining." After he speaks, his eyes widen, and he realizes he basically just called himself boring. "I…what I meant by that was…I…" He closes his mouth again, taking a moment to compose himself, looking close to crying or perhaps passing out all over again.

"Are you nervous?" Lynette asks, even though the answer is obvious.

"Uh." He swallows, "I guess. A little. Yeah."

"Don't be nervous, honey. We're all here to get to know you and have a good time."

Mikey nods, offering Lynette a friendly, but tense, smile.

"How do you like being the partner of a career?" Lynette asks.

"It's nice. She's nice." He presses his lips together. "I think we get along really well." The boy seems to calm down a little as he talks about his partner.

"Are you ready for the games?"

The boy is silent for a second. His right foot, which has been fretfully tapping against the ground since he took a seat, stops moving. He looks down, the inclination of a smile lingering on his lips. I wait for him to lie through his teeth about how he's sure he's going to win, like most tributes do. Instead he responds with a soft, "I don't know."

There's something so honest about his voice, something so earnest and thoughtful.

His sincerity leaves me slightly discomfited.

**There we go! The interviews are officially over! Sorry that took so long. I want to thank LilacFields again for the incredible amazing costumes! I'm very impressed with them! **

**Answer to the last question: The last interview belonged to Mikey Jonah! (Poor guy- he really can't catch a break can he? But…technically it could be a lot worse. I was thinking about all the horrible things that could happen to someone in a three-minute interview. This list is frighteningly long.)**

**New Question: I'm going to make you guess again! Since the next chapter is the first day of the games, I thought of the perfect question to ask: Who is going to die first in the games? **


	26. The last few moments

**Linel Messane Pov:**

I've been designing the costumes for the district 7 boys for the past six years. I get paid well. But, somehow not enough. The work is exhausting. I get to like the tributes just as much as the costumes. And then I have to watch them die.

As I wait for the arrival of the boy, I marvel at how quiet the room is. Then the door bangs open, and a peacekeeper guides the boy from 7 into the room before slamming the door.

Joey. The boy that ripped the sleeve of his costume as he climbed the building during the chariot rides. Though, I never held that against him. These tributes have to do crazy things in order to get sponsors. Except I was sure the boy was so handsome he would get sponsors no matter what.

I reach for the jacket behind me, fix the collar a little, and then hand it to Joey.

"Put this on," I say. The boy complies, slipping the jacket on quickly. Then he slides his hands back in his pocket. But, not before I see the gloves he's wearing.

"Those aren't part of the arena outfit," I comment. The boy's jaw tenses slightly.

"I know."

"Let me see them."

He pulls his hands from his pocket, showing me the open-fingered gloves. They're fraying, the black cloth turning an old brown from what must be years of wearing. Why anyone would want to wear such unstylish apparel, I have no idea.

"Please. I need them," he says.

I look up from the gloves, focusing my attention on the boy. The half-smile he usually wears in gone. There's real fear deep in his blue eyes. It's the first time I've seen such an emotion from the boy.

"Well. If you _really_ want them," I shrug.

"Thank you," he replies.

He opens his mouth as though he's going to say something else, but no sound escapes. Instead he just looks as me. Not a quick glance. His blue eyes freeze on my own. Some might find the eye contact strange. But, I've seen it with every boy from 7. It's this moment where they realize what's about to happen. Where that little kid in them longs for some sense of comfort, for some human connection.

I lay a hand on his shoulder. No words are exchanged. There's nothing to say. It doesn't matter how good-looking the boy is, how many sponsors he has, how many allies he's secured for himself, how smart he is, how brave he is. He will most likely die. And I can't tell him everything will be okay. Because it won't be. If he makes it past the bloodbath, then there will be countless horrors for him to face. Even if he wins nothing will be okay.

The screech of an alarm fills the room. Joey jumps slightly from the sound.

"It's time," I say, leading Joey towards the elevator behind him. As the doors begin to close, I quickly add, "Oh. And don't forget to hold on to the handlebar. The lift moves pretty fast."

**Next chapter really is the bloodbath! Again, if you haven't already, give a guess as to who the first tribute to die will be. If you guess right, your tribute won't die in the bloodbath! (Or if you didn't submit a tribute, any tribute of your choice) Since the chance of you guessing right is 1/24 which is ****approximately 4%**, I'm deciding to make it so if you do happen to guess right the prize is nice and big! 


	27. The Beginning of the End

**District 5: Sophie Merita (13) Pov-**

Elevators don't move sideways and they don't accelerate to the speed of a train. I'm most definitely not in an elevator.

The vehicle comes to a screeching halt, before it shoots up making my stomach flip. I grip onto the handlebar behind me. This is insane! A tribute could get seriously injured just on the ride to the arena!

Then the ride becomes still. I let got of the handlebar, uneasily. The walls on all four sides of me collapse, barely making a sound. And then I'm looking at the most beautiful place I've ever laid eyes on.

I think I once dreamt of a scene as beautiful as this arena. Though, in the dream I couldn't take a deep breath in through my nose and feel the cool air crawl up my nostrils.

The base of the elevator, which I reckon to be about four square feet, is surrounded by milky blue water. I watch, fascinated, as the small elevator-like vehicles emerge from the water, then the walls collapse back into the water and a tribute is left standing on the small platform, transfixed by the exquisiteness of the arena.

The soft, milky water flows towards a waterfall to my right. The gorgeous cascade of water roars a soothing sound, falling for what looks like at least a hundred feet.

Tall mountains lie behind me. Thick trees form a deep forest on the bank to my left. The sky is a deep blue, almost purple. I hastily look around, trying to figure out the quickest way to safety. Any second now the games will start. If I swim the few yards to the forest, I should be protected from the killings the bloodbath brings. I'm sure the careers will take to the mountains, because that will give them a clear view to the rest of the arena. But, forests are perfect for hiding. And I know I'm going to have to hide.

A couple of the other tributes also seem dazed and distracted by the beauty of the arena. The boy from 8 tips his head back, his mouth hanging slightly open as he watches the giant trees sway in the soft winds.

"Welcome to the 100th hunger games!" Lynette's voice soars through the delicate air. It's weird; her voice sounds like she's standing right behind me. Some of the other tributes spin around, looking for the source of the voice. But, I know better than to think Lynette would be in the arena. The acoustics of the arena are exceptional. "Let the games begin in 5…4…3…2…1…go!"

The boy from 2 jumps into the water with a roar, probably attempting to frighten some of the other tributes. He swims towards the cornucopia in the center of the water.

I slide right into the water, taking a big gulp of air before slipping my head underwater. Immediately the calming sound of the water fills my ears, and I open my eyes as I swim towards the bank. I see arms and legs trashing in panic, in confusion, in impetuosity. When I reach the bank, I drag myself out of the water. Making sure no one is looking my direction, I sprint towards the comforting dark of the forest.

**District 6: Hadley Paxton (15) Pov-**

The boy from 5 is staring right at me. He looks like a boy out of a painting. A perfect smirk lights up his lips. His brown hair blows in the wind. His green eyes twinkle as they focus on me.

As Lynette shouts "go!" he dives into the water, swimming for the cornucopia. I look around for Todd, heaving a sigh of relief finding him only a few feet from me, staring into the water with fear.

"Todd! We have to swim!" I shout. He looks up at me. From the way he shakes his head, his light brown curls dancing around his face, I know he can't swim. "Hold on a second! I'm going to come help you!"

Todd nods, biting his lip. I take a deep breath as the cold water bites my arms. I keep my eyes on Todd, hoping no one will shoot me while I'm swimming. Once I reach his platform Todd grabs my hand.

"It's okay, I'm here now," I tell him. He looks behind me, terror in his eyes. I turn around slowly.

The boy from 5 hoists himself onto Todd's platform, droplets of water sliding from his waterproof jacket. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling his dripping wet hair from his eyes. He leans against the spear in his right hand, smiling at the two of us.

"I'm Talen, I don't think we've officially met," he says. He holds out his left hand to me, as though waiting for a handshake. There's a scream from my left. I see the boy from 2 and the boy from 4 fighting by the cornucopia. "And you are?" Talen asks.

"Hadley," I respond. Then I motion to Todd, "And this is my partner Todd."

"Pleasure." Talen bows deeply to Todd and then to me. No one has ever bowed to me with such respect. It leaves me at a loss of words for a moment. Talen takes the silence to lean against his spear again. "Want to see something cool?" he asks me.

"I guess…sure…"

"Watch _this_," he smiles, picking up his spear and twirling it once in the air. With a flick of his wrist he shoves the point through Todd's middle.

"No!" I scream, catching Todd before he falls, his blood spilling onto my hands. Talen looks momentarily confused as he stares at the spear in Todd. He pulls the weapon out of his middle, watching the blood stick to it. Todd lets out a wet and bloody cough, holding onto his stomach, a cry forming in his throat.

"Hadley," he whispers, his eyes filling with tears. I grip onto his hand.

Talen tips his head back and lets out this incredibly boyish laugh. "Don't worry," he says to Todd. "Your death is going to look so awesome on the big screen." And with a forceful shove, he slices the spear through the delicate skin of Todd's forehead. My partner's cannon goes immediately. It's the first cannon of the games.

I choke out a cry, scrambling away from Talen. He laughs again, looking around as though to check if anyone saw his marvelous kill.

I fall into the water, swimming as fast as I can for the bank a few yards away. A horrible scream comes from behind me, then a splash. Someone's sobs merge with my panicked gasps. A second cannon goes. Dark red blood seeps through the water, and the dead body of the boy from 4 floats by me. His partner is dragging his bloodied body onto her platform, shaking his limp form. The boy from 2 smiles at the two. I take his contentment to mean that he's responsible for the boy's death. That and the fact that he's holding a bloody spear. As he makes eye contact with me I duck under the water, swimming towards the closest bank.

I can still hear Talen's laughs. His infantile chuckles.

A sharp pain shoots through my shoulder, and I choke out a cry, grabbing my arm. My dark blood spreads through the water.

"Yes! I got her!" It's a girl's voice.

A hand grabs my collar, and drags me onto a platform. I look up into the eager eyes of the girl from 3. Her dampened golden hair falls down her back, and the smile she has on is a mix between something so angelic and something so malicious. She lifts up her sword; I clench my eyes, waiting for the weapon to pierce through my chest. This is it. I'm going to die. I'm never going to get to see Marcus again.

But, there's no pain. I open my right eye; the girl is looking at the blonde boy next to her. She hands the sword to him. "You want to finish her off, Colton?"

It almost seems like the kill she's offering is some type of present. Like she's being generous.

The boy looks down at me, something very close to the fear I'm feeling right now crosses his face.

I choke out a, "Please don't."

"Nah. It's okay. You can do it," he replies, his tone casual.

She shrugs, raising the sword above her head. She brings the blade down.

The pain only lasts a moment. Then there is just warmth.

**District 3: Skip Ryden (18) Pov-**

"Hey Ryden!" Jared shouts, glaring in my direction. He has his arm stuck into the cornucopia.

I'm still trying to figure out which way to swim. Riley points towards the forest. I nod in agreement. The forest is a good place to start.

"Heads up!" Jared shouts, before hurling a knife in my direction. The blade is right on track to hit me in the chest. My size makes it difficult for me to maneuver out of the way. I stumble backwards, hoping perhaps Jared's aim isn't so perfect.

A hand whizzes in front of me, grabbing the knife in mid air. Joey staggers across the platform I'm on, catching his balance, a huge grin on his face. I didn't even notice him swimming in my direction.

"Well…_that_ was good timing," he mutters to himself. I'm about to thank him for saving my life when Joey turns towards Jared, holds the knife up, and shouts, "Thanks, dude. This is going to come in handy. Want to toss me another one?"

At the look of complete odium that crosses Jared's face, I grab Joey's sleeve.

"What are you doing? You're going to make him _hate_ you."

"Just distracting the hungry careers while they're rummaging through the cornucopia," Joey whispers, not looking away from Jared as he speaks. The girl from 1 pulls herself onto the rock the cornucopia is located on, her blonde hair pulled into a dripping wet ponytail.

"Why?" I ask. Though, Joey need not answer. I watch as Clarity quietly sneaks beside the careers. The girl from 1 is much too interested in getting perfect aim on the girl from 8 to jump on Clarity. Clarity slings a backpack over her shoulder, and dumps a bow into the water. Jeannette swims to the weapon, her small body darting through the water at an incredible speed. Clarity points to the forest making eye contact with Joey, swimming after Jeannette.

Jared swings his arm back, another knife in his hand, shooting the weapon towards Joey this time. But Joey crouches down, the blade soaring over his head, and slipping into the water.

"A little high. You should aim for my feet next time!" Joey smirks at the infuriated huff Jared gives.

I shove Joey into the water, as Jared grabs for another knife. If we can sneak away while he's not looking, we may be able to get to the bank before he gets his hand on another weapon. And with Jeanette armed, she should be able to defend us.

I'm glad Joey's a fast swimmer; he puts his whole body under-water, slithering through the liquid as though he's some type of fish. I kick my body forward; the bank is only a few feet away now. Clarity and Janette have joined an anxious Halley and Riley. They're all beckoning for us to move faster. Then a look of horror passes across all four girls' faces. Well, except for Jeanette. Though, her eyebrows do come together in something that resembles worry, which certainly concerns me since it's the first time I've seen her look anything but indifferent.

Jeanette grabs the bow, placing an arrow against the strings. She pulls the string towards herself, a determined look in her eyes.

Joey reaches the bank at this moment.

"Keep swimming!" he waves me forward.

Then Jeanette lets the arrow go, it flies a few inches above my head. I hear the shout of agony from behind me. As I reach the grass of the bank, I lift myself from the water. Then I let myself turn around. The boy from 10 is clutching an arrow in his stomach.

I turn to look at Jeanette again, wondering if I'll catch any pity in her expression. But there is no such emotion. Her grayish-blue eyes are only hard.

"Keep moving," she says to us. I watch as Sparkle pulls herself onto the platform of the boy from 10. She doesn't say anything as she swipes her sword through the boy's neck. His head rolls across his platform and into the water. It's the first sign of compassion I've seen from Sparkle. She's killing the tributes who are already dead. Next she has her eyes on the boy's partner.

Halley lets out a gasp. I offer her a pitying look, realizing the boy was from her district.

Jeanette starts towards the forest, locking eyes with Halley.

"Sorry. But, he was trying to kill Skip. It had to happen," she says.

**District 7: Clara Kinking (16) Pov-**

I stand on the bank, waiting for Hunter to make it out of the water. After a close encounter with Arianne, he's back on track, miraculously uninjured as he rips through the water. The girl from 8, who is still crying over her dead partner, has distracted Arianne. I swallow as I watch Arianne swim towards the weeping girl. The career treads water, balancing her already bloody sword on her shoulder. She dives forward, landing on top of the girl from 8. With a quick swipe, the thirsty blade dives into the girl's chest.

I look away, taking a quick breath. Next my eyes fall on the boy from 6. He's one of the few other tributes not moving. I figure he probably can't swim. And there's part of me that thinks I ought to go back to help him. But, then I realize that he's staring at his partner's decapitated head. There's obvious fear in his eyes, but there's something else I can't quite place. Is it relief? Or hopelessness? I've always found those two states of mind rather similar.

"Clara! Come on, we have to go!" Hunter shouts. I didn't even realize him get out of the water. I slink after him. Only once we reach the mouth of the forest do I turn back and glance at the boy from 6 again. I keep expecting him to keel over in agony, because his body is supposed to start failing if his partner is dead. But he does no such thing. He just keeps standing on his platform.

"It's going to take a while," Hunter says, as though reading my mind. "He'll probably be dead by this time tomorrow. Maybe it'll take longer. But, he doesn't look all that strong."

"This time tomorrow," I repeat. Hunter stops walking for a moment, squinting his brown eyes a little. After a sigh he slings his arm over my shoulders.

"Clara. Don't worry about him. We have to keep focused on us. We've got everything we need, just the two of us, to make it out alive."

"I know. I'm not doubting out competence," I respond. "We are a _brilliant _team," I mutter. Hunter's cockiness has rubbed off on me a little.

"Yeah. We are." Hunter agrees, starting into a walk again. "We should go look for food. I'm getting hungry. I could really use some chocolate covered strawberries. If you see any around, please tell me." He grins.

"What about water? We should look for water."

"We already found water," he says.

"What? You mean…where we just were…"

"It was fresh. Sure, it's filled with blood, but…it's still fresh water."

"You don't think that's the only water source in the arena, do you?"

"I should think it is," Hunter responds, not looking worried. "It's the best way to keep the tributes near each other. If there's only one water source, and it's in the center of the arena…the tributes are forced together."

"That's awful."

"Well…for us it is. But, think of it this way: the games are _that _much more entertaining."

"We should go back and get water, then."

"Nah. We should wait until the careers aren't in the middle of the bloodbath. And wait for the dead bodies to be cleared away. I must admit drinking from water with decapitated heads floating around in it is _not_ appetizing."

The light dims. The branches of the tall trees filter out the light. The trees are bigger than any I've seen. The trunks look to be twelve times as thick as me. The branches stick out like hungry arms, waiting to plunge down and crush me. But, there's also something wise about the colossal trees. They know the secrets of the forest. They know what's in store the deeper we travel into these woods.

******What do you think? **This is just the first half of the blood bath. Next chapter this will continue. 5 dead so far.  


**First, Todd Brown. This kid was a sweetheart. But, I don't think anyone expected him to make to past the bloodbath. **

**Though, Tommy Scott was a surprise, right? He was super fun to write. What an arrogant dude. I mean, really. But also extremely entertaining. **

**Hadley Paxton was the nicest of all tributes. I really hated seeing her die- since she really was such a good kid. There's that saying "the nice guys finish last"- although I guess in this case the nice guys finish first. Since she was one of the first deaths :(**

**Friesian Wade. Poor guy. I must say, I'm going to miss him and Anderson having their little squabbles about stupid things. **

**Last, but definitely not least, Kat Callaghan. I really appreciated this tribute. She was against the games, and not afraid to show it. Her downfall was her compassion. If she hadn't cared that Tommy was dead she would have run away to safety. She died in a good light. She went down as a human being. **

**I feel sorry for the dead tributes. But, in a way they are the lucky ones, the horror is over for them. Where as, it has just begun for all the other tributes. (Yeah…that was a very cliché line right there. Forgive me, then.) But, I'm serious. You have NO idea. The arena is going to get really REALLY bad. **

**Bellow is a list of the tributes. The numbers of tributes they have killed are to the right of their names. The bolded tributes are still alive. **

**District 1:**

**Male: Colton Orsel (16)**

**Female: Sparkle Uccello (17)- has killed 1**

**District 2:**

**Male: Jared Lynxx (17)- has killed 1**

**Female: Brynn Carson (16)**

**District 3:**

**Male: Skip Ryden (18)**

**Female: Arianne Pixel (16)- has killed 2**

**District 4:**

Male: Tommy Scott (17)

**Female: Janette McKinley (16)**

**District 5:**

**Male: Talen Morton (15)- has killed 1**

**Female: Sophie Merita (13)**

**District 6:**

**Male: Anderson Piely (13)**

Female: Hadley Paxton (15)

**District 7:**

**Male: Joey Morel (16)**

**Female: Clara Kinking (16)**

**District 8:**

Male: Todd Brown (12)

Female: Kat Callaghan (15)

**District 9:**

**Male: Mikey Jonah (15)**

**Female: Clarity May (17)**

**District 10:**

Male: Friesian Wade (14)

**Female: Halley Morris (15)**

**District 11:**

**Male: Falcon Dide (18)**

**Female: Riley Kramer (17)**

**District 12:**

**Male: Hunter Night (15)**

**Female: Kasey Spalik (16)**

**Answer to last question: Todd Brown's death was the first of the games :(**

**Next question: According to Hunter, where is the only source of fresh water in the arena?  
**


	28. Get What You Deserve

**District 11: Falcon Dide (18) Pov-**

I don't understand what the point is. What's the point of trying to survive? I don't _want_ to go home. I don't _want_ to go back to being hated and feared because of what happened to Kai. It was an accident. But no matter how many times I tell people I loved my little brother, they will never believe that I'm not evil.

The bloodbath looks close to over. Most of the tributes have either made their escape or are now lifeless carcasses littering the body of water. The boy from 5 is still sitting on the platform where the boy from 8's bloodied body lies. He's running his fingers through the blood, a look of complete inspiration on his face. I suppose since he's the partner of a career, he isn't worried about getting murdered.

The boy from 6 is giving Sparkle quite a fight. He dodges a blow to his stomach. He looks completely terrified, scampering across his platform as the girl again shoves her sword towards his middle. I'm sure he won't last long. Besides, his partner's already dead. He's pretty hopeless. And the hopeless are never good fighters. They have nothing to fight for.

The girl from 3 is washing her bloodied sword off in the water, catching her breath. The girl from 2, accompanied by the boy from 9, is filling a water bottle. They're not worried. They know they're safe as they're part of the career group.

I take one look at Kasey; she's already on the bank closest to the mountain, holding up her spear, getting aim on Sparkle. I know Kasey's waiting for me. She expects me to get to the cornucopia, pick out a weapon, and kill a couple careers and meet up with her. She puts down her spear as she glances in my direction.

"Falcon!" Kasey shouts, just as the boy from 1, Colton, makes eye contact with me, a determined look in his eyes. I thought he might be the one to kill me. Ever since our little brawl at the feast, I've known he doesn't like me. "Falcon! You need to come here! There's no more time to go to the cornucopia! I'll hold them off while you swim!"

But, I ignore Kasey's shouts. Didn't she learn anything from the conversation we had during training? She's supposed to leave me alone.

"Falcon! You have to move!" She screams.

I continue standing on my platform, making sure to keep my attention on the career from 1. He lifts up his right hand in a wave, as if to say _I see you. I'm going to kill you_. He grabs the sword from the girl from 3 and dives into the water, swimming towards me.

_This is it. I'm going to die. _Strangely enough, the thoughts that run through my mind aren't fearful. They're relieved. _ I'll get to see Kai again. I'll finally get to apologize. _

Colton's head pops up from the water, his blue eyes fastened on mine. It's as he pulls himself onto my platform and holds his sword up that he hesitates.

"Why aren't you running?" he asks in a whisper.

"Kill me. Go ahead," I say, my voice unwavering.

His blonde eyebrows come together in confusion. "Why aren't you running?" he repeats. "Are you too scared to move? You're a coward?" Even though his words are taunting, there's a certain uneasiness to them.

"_Don't_ call me a coward." I say through gritted teeth. For a moment he actually looks a little scared, but he pulls his expression into one of fortitude.

"Then run," he hisses.

I look at Colton, momentarily puzzled. He should have killed me already. Why is he telling me to run? Does he think I'm trying to con him?

"I'm doing you a favor. Go ahead and kill me," I say, holding my arms up to show my defeat. "I'm not tricking you."

He lifts the sword up, pointing the thirsty tip at my chest. I wait for him to stab me. He doesn't.

I let out a soft chuckle.

"What's so funny? Stop laughing!" His voice is commanding, but his eyes are apprehensive.

"You can't do it. You're too afraid."

"I'm _not afraid_," Colton spits back. "I just…I can't kill you unless you fight back."

I peel my gaze from Colton's, peering down at the blade that's pressed against my jacket.

"And why not?" I inquire.

"Colton, hurry up!" Sparkle shouts, sticking her sword in the water, washing away the dark red blood of her most recent victim. A cannon goes. The boy from 6's body lies limply on his platform. His mouth is hanging open. Drops of blood slide from his lips and into the water. _Poor kid_. Though, he didn't really stand a chance against Sparkle.

I look back up at Colton. His sword is shaking in his hand.

"Just do it," I say, calmly.

Colton mutters something I don't quite catch, probably some type of insult to infuriate me; some sort of offense to make me hurl a punch in his direction.

But, my attention is focused on the water. The still liquid begins to bubble into white, frothy liquid. Colton notices a few seconds after me.

"What is it? What's happening?" His blue eyes get wide.

"Colton! Finish him off and get out of the water!" Arianne shouts. Her and the rest of the careers are now standing on the bank by the mountains, having fled from the dangerous looking water. Kasey is nowhere to be seen. She's probably realized there's no use waiting for me.

Before Colton or I can flee, the water shoots into the air, landing on top of me with such force it knocks me off the platform.

Colton drops the sword, falling in after me. And the current is so strong that it feels like strong arms forcing me under water, shoving me down stream, right towards the waterfall. Colton struggles to push against the current. But, it's no use.

I just let the water push me. My instincts scream that I should grab onto a platform nearby. But, I let the current carry me. And I just think of Kai. How ironic it is that I should die in water just like my little brother.

I smile. I'm finally going to get what I deserve.

**District 3: Arianne Pixel (16) Pov-**

I stand in silence, waiting for Colton's shout. Waiting to hear him call up to me. He'll tell me he has killed the boy from 11 and that he's okay. But, no such voice soars through the arena. There's just the soothing sound of running water.

"Well…" Jared heaves a small sigh. "I guess-"

"Be quiet!" I cut him off. "We have to listen for Colton."

After a few more beats, a hand lands on my shoulder.

"Arianne, I'm sorry," Brynn says, her soft eyes so understanding.

"Why? He's not dead!" I retort.

"Arianne, let's be realistic," Jared says, his tone far less consoling that Brynn's. "The boy fell about 100 feet in a dangerous arena. He's probably dead."

"Did you hear a cannon?"

Jared frowns. "Well, the water is loud."

"But did you hear a cannon?" I raise a brow. Jared is silent. "Exactly. Now, we have to go look for him."

"No." Jared replies. His voice is soft. It's not authoritative, but his expression is sober and stern. "We will take to the mountains. Remember our game plan?"

"But-"

"We don't go back for anyone."

"Yes. But-"

"Colton's a smart guy, anyway. I'm sure if he's alive he'll make his way to the mountains. He already knows we're heading there."

I remain silent, shooting Jared a glare filled with as much odium as I can manage in such a situation. What if Colton's injured? Or what if he really _is_ dead? I shake the thought from my mind.

"Who the hell made _you_ the leader anyway?" I hiss at Jared.

The career from 2's expression doesn't change. He shrugs.

I glance at the rest of the group. Brynn is still wearing a pitying expression, Sparkle appears a little uncomfortable and she fiddles with the strap on a backpack. Mikey opens his mouth as though he's going to say something, but after a nervous glance in Jared's direction, he remains silent.

"If you want to go look for him on your own, you can," Jared says.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I want to scream at Jared that this isn't _fair_. I should shove my sword through his chest right now. But, I know I'll need him to kill more of the other tributes before I dispose of him. So, I put on the most charming smile I can muster, and nod my head.

"You're right, Jared. Colton is smart. I'm sure he'll come back."

Jared blinks, not offering a response. He turns towards the rocky mountains in front of us. Brynn and Sparkle follow him closely. Mikey pulls the water canteen from his backpack. He doesn't say anything. But, from the way he holds the jug out to me I can tell he's offering me some.

I shake my head.

He sticks the canteen back in his bag, tightening the straps so the backpack hugs his shoulders. We walk after the rest of the group. He whispers very softly to me, "Don't worry. He's not dead."

I glare at him. "I _know_ that." Because of the way he bites his lip and looks at his shoes after my words, as though hurt, I add a quick, "Thanks for the optimism, though."

He shrugs. "And he'll come back. I'm sure."

"Yeah. Well…we'll see."

I watch as Mikey speeds up a little so he can walk beside Brynn. The two of them start into a soft conversation. She chuckles at something, and he beams as she laughs. Brynn flicks a piece of dirt off the collar of his jacket while he's looking ahead at the climb into the mountains. It's such a caring action. As though Mikey's her little brother.

Then I start thinking about my little brothers, Cole and Copper. I would give anything to see them again.

No. I _will_ do anything.

I don't care if I have to kill Brynn's and Mikey's friendly souls while they sleep.

If I see Colton's name in the sky after the anthem tonight, I'm killing every single tribute in this arena before morning. Because there's no way I'm dying in the next day. There's no way I'm dying. Ever.

**Bloodbath is over. I'm sorry if your tribute died. It's nothing personal. Honestly, I don't even know who's going to die until I start writing and then my fingers type out someone's name in the same sentence as "spear" or "decapitated head" and before I know it, that character has been killed off. **

**This chapter's known death: Anderson Piely. The thirteen-year-old from district 6 who was into dating older women. Even if no older women even wanted to date him. I thought this character was an odd ball and therefore a wonderful character. I do feel sorry for the boy and for his mother and little brother. For, it's always hard on the families, isn't it? **

**6 down. 18 still have a chance. **

**As for last chapter's question, you all were right! Yes. I'm aware it was an easy easy easy question. So, I'm going to try and come up with a much more interesting question for this chapter: **

**True or False: Colton and Falcon are both alive. **

**Yeah. So just write what you think. You think they both survived the travel down the water fall? Perhaps the journey down the waterfall was just like one of those rides at a water park ********which all the preeteen couples go on because they're too short to go on the AWESOME rides, yet still want to feel cool and accomplished enough to go on a ride not crowded with little kids with life jackets. ** (yeah-you know EXACTLY the ones I'm talking about. There's always that preeteen couple). Or do you think one or both of them died? Tell me what you think.  


******I did want to thank all those who have reviewed, followed, favorited and all that jazz. It's always a nice feeling to get a review. And it means a lot to me that you're all taking the time to read this story. :D**

**You can start sponsoring tributes now, by the way. If you wish to. **

**Bellow is a list of the tributes. The numbers of tributes they have killed are to the right of their names. The bolded tributes are still alive. **

**District 1:**

**Male: Colton Orsel (16)**

**Female: Sparkle Uccello (17)- has killed 2  
**

**District 2:**

**Male: Jared Lynxx (17)- has killed 1**

**Female: Brynn Carson (16)**

**District 3:**

**Male: Skip Ryden (18)**

**Female: Arianne Pixel (16)- has killed 2**

**District 4:**

Male: Tommy Scott (17)

**Female: Janette McKinley (16)**

**District 5:**

**Male: Talen Morton (15)- has killed 1**

**Female: Sophie Merita (13)**

**District 6:**

Male: Anderson Piely (13)

Female: Hadley Paxton (15)

**District 7:**

**Male: Joey Morel (16)**

**Female: Clara Kinking (16)**

**District 8:**

Male: Todd Brown (12)

Female: Kat Callaghan (15)

**District 9:**

**Male: Mikey Jonah (15)**

**Female: Clarity May (17)**

**District 10:**

Male: Friesian Wade (14)

**Female: Halley Morris (15)**

**District 11:**

**Male: Falcon Dide (18)**

**Female: Riley Kramer (17)**

**District 12:**

**Male: Hunter Night (15)**

**Female: Kasey Spalik (16)**


	29. Blue Eyed Boy

**District 10: Halley Morris (15) Pov-**

The forest is beautiful. Tall trees reach into the sky, their limbs twisting and turning like particularly confused appendages. There's something hectic about the trees, even in their inert conditions. There's something magnetic about them, something enigmatic, something distinctive. These trees are not breeds that would appear on the outskirts of district 10.

Janette and Riley are to my left, unceremoniously dumping the contents of our only backpack onto the leaf-strewn ground.

"One first aid kit, one empty canteen, one pocket knife, one pack of dried fruit, one compass, some rope," Janette mutters, sifting through the skimpy supplies. "For _one _person it might be helpful. But for _six_…this sucks."

The soft sound of scraping bark comes from over me. I tip my head back so I can watch Joey zoom up the tree closest to me. Skip and Clarity stand a few paces from the large trunk.

"You see any water?" Clarity calls up.

"Or any sign of other tributes?" Skip asks.

"The only water source is the waterfall in the center of the arena." Joey's voice answers. "And I think I see the careers heading up into the mountains," There's a silence, followed by the sound of branches being pushed out of the way. "But I can hardly see anything through these leaves."

"So you think we have to go back to get water?" Clarity asks.

"I'm afraid so," Skip answers, his lips in a straight line.

There's a soft thud, then a shadow crosses in front of me. I look up at Joey as he comes to a halt before me.

"Enjoying yourself, 10?" he asks, a charming half-smile resting in the corner of his lips.

I squint my eyes, returning his grin. "I'm just trying to figure out what trees the ones in the arena are modeled off of. You wouldn't happen to know?"

Joey spins around and tips his head back so he can get a view of the same scenery I'm studying. His brown hair swishes against the back of his neck as he looks around.

"Sorry. I'm not sure."

"But, you're the boy from district 7. Shouldn't you be able to tell me about the trees?"

"Because _everyone_ in district 7 knows _everything_ about trees… Just like _everyone_ in district 11 knows _everything_ about agriculture and _everyone_ in district 3 knows _everything_ about transportation," Joey mumbles, a hint of teasing to his sarcasm. He focuses his blue eyes on me. I can't help squirming under his gaze. "As far as I'm concerned there are two types of trees: those that are good for climbing in and those that are completely useless."

"Those are words of great acumen," I say, a huge grin occupying my expression.

Joey chuckles himself, sitting down beside me. The hem of his jacket brushes against my hand. "Acumen? You always use weird words like that. You seem smart. Are you?"

I shrug. "I guess so."

He smiles at me. Though, because he's already almost got his shoulder resting against my own, his face is only a few centimeters from my own. His light brown hair rests perfectly against his forehead. His eyes are such a special kind of blue. They remind me of the sky in the early morning; just when the color is softest and the most delicate.

For a moment, I can't help marveling at how beautiful he is. He's easily the most beautiful boy I've ever seen. Although, I would never tell him that. For one, I know boys don't like to be called beautiful. And anyway, I'm way too shy to award him with any type of complement.

"That's really cool, Halley. You're going to have to teach me some of those words."

I open my mouth to answer, but an unfamiliar sound silences me.

"What was that?" I ask.

Joey sits up straighter, as though having perfect posture will award him with better hearing.

The sound comes again. This time it's close enough that I can classify it as one belonging to an animal. Not just any friendly creature. This distinctive, poignant howl belongs to a wolf.

Joey jumps to his feet, grabbing the pocketknife from the pile of supplies to his right. Jeanette's grip on her bow tightens. Riley shoves all the remaining supplies into the backpack, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

The six of us wait in silence, anticipating the arrival of huge, bloodthirsty arena-wolves (which are always much more dangerous than real wolves). Though, no such animals appear.

I hear the howl once more. However, it's much softer than the last time. The wolf is moving away.

Janette lets out a sigh. "Must have caught the scent of another tribute."

I grimace, imagining the horrible encounter one of the other teenagers in the arena might have to endure.

"I don't mean to be a bummer. But, we should really get some water before it gets dark," Riley says.

"There's only one water source," Skip says. "It's probably still filled with a whole lot of blood from the killings this morning."

"We can't go back there!" Clarity insists. "The careers are in the mountains. They have a perfect view of that water source. They're probably waiting for tributes to go back there. And six people walking out in the open by the water…it's an easy kill."

"You're right. That's why we can't all go," Joey says. "I'll go. Just give me the water bottle. And I'll look through the cornucopia for more supplies while I'm there."

"You can't go alone," Clarity asserts. "I'll go with you."

Janette crosses her arms over her chest. "How do we know you two aren't going to get the water for yourselves and leave the rest of us here to dehydrate? You guys _are_ partners."

"We wouldn't do that," Clarity snaps, as though she's a little frustrated.

"I'll go with Joey," Skip cuts in. Janette relaxes. It's not as though Joey and Skip can leave their partners for long. They _have_ to come back.

"Fine," Janette mutters. "Take the bow. You'll need it more than us." She hands the weapon to Skip. Her grip remains tight even once Skip grasps the bow, as though she is hesitant about giving up the weapon. But she does eventually let go.

"You girls stay here. We'll be back before it gets dark," Skip says.

"Be careful," Clarity whispers, her hand brushing against Joey's sleeve.

"Don't worry about _me_," her partner scoffs. "Nothing bad can happen. I'm wearing my _gloves_." He places emphasis on the last word, as though the apparel he wears on his hands exhibits special powers. For some reason Clarity smiles as though she understands exactly what he's talking about. Except she still looks uneasy. "But you be careful yourself," Joey murmurs.

Clarity smiles, "I will." '

The two share a look. One that makes the muscles in my stomach tighten because I really wish that Joey would look at _me _like that. The look isn't even all that romantic. It's something caring, something consoling.

I glance over at Skip and Riley, who are having their own conversation. From the way Riley keeps eye contact with Skip, it makes me think that she's giving him some type of last minute lecture.

I chuckle, and whisper to Janette, "I suppose we should start acting like an old married couple, too. Just so we'll fit in."

The sides of Janette's lips turn up somewhat. And she lets out a very soft, very restrained, chuckle.

I stare at her, my jaw dropping open in an expression of awe.

"What?" she asks, her lips falling back into a straight, serious, line.

"Did you just…laugh?!" I ask, breathless with disbelief.

She shrugs.

"I…I made you laugh!"

"Why are you so surprised?"

"Well…I've never even seen you _smile_. I never thought I'd see you _laugh_."

She shakes her head, her lips pursed together, as though she questions my sanity. But I see her smile again as she focuses her attention on the departure of the two boys. It's a quiet smile; one that tries to stay hidden behind a staid countenance, yet still manages to bring that radiance to her eyes. That illumination that lives inside the playful eyes of every single child.

As Joey and Skip disappear into the forest, Riley and Clarity take a seat next to each other, sifting through the of the backpack once again. Neither of them speaks a word. Their jaws remain tense, and I can tell from the way Clarity's long fingers fiddle with the zipper of the bag that she's nervous.

I lean back against one of those tall, distinctive trees. It's the silence of the arena that instigates my worrying mind. There isn't one birdcall, not a simple gust of wind.

Something brushes against my leg. I don't even look down. It's probably a small spider or something else delicate and unimportant.

Then something very strong tightens around my leg.

I open my eyes; positive Janette is giving my leg a squeeze to get my attention. However, my partner is standing a few feet from me, staring at something to my left. Clarity and Riley have also gotten to their feet, wearing almost identical expressions of fear and austerity.

I gulp.

Janette stuffs her hand under her shirt, pulling out a long blade. I don't have the breath to ask where she got the weapon.

"Don't move, Halley…" She whispers. "And don't look to your left. Just keep looking at me."

I close my eyes.

That's when I hear it. I hear it breathing. And it sounds so human.

I take a glance at my left leg. A hand lies against my limb. Though the skin is a dark grey, the nails long and filled with grunge.

My gaze runs from the hand to a skinny arm, which rotting grey flesh clings to.

"Halley, don't look at it," Janette urges.

But, I have to. And yet nothing can prepare me for the horror of its face, the small pearly teeth and yellowing eyes of this…_thing_.

I let out a scream.

The hand lets go of my leg, the thing leaping back with a howl. The same haunting, poignant howl of a wolf. Though this is no wolf.


	30. Leo the Living Dead

**District 3: Skip Ryden (18) Pov-**

"You hear that?" Joey stops in his tracks.

"The scream?"

"That's Halley's scream!"

A long howl flows through the air.

"We have to go back and help them," I say. Joey grasps onto my arm, holding me back.

"We don't have time." Joey frowns, then take a few steps forward, tips his head back, cups his hands over his mouth, and lets out a feral howl.

For a moment, I worry for his sanity.

"What are you doing?" I whisper, grabbing onto his sleeve. "You're going to give away our location to all the other tributes."

He ignores me, his blue eyes remain focused on the tall trees surrounding us.

However, a second howl surges through the arena. This one is deeper than Joey's, more haunting.

"That's right, come on…" Joey whispers. He swallows, listening for perhaps another howl. After no such sound comes, Joey once again lets rip an animalistic howl.

Then comes the answer, only a few beats later. The howl is louder than the one we heard moments ago. The animal is undeniably getting closer.

Joey lets out a sigh of relief just as I start to panic.

"Good. Now, it should be leaving them alone," he says.

"What?! But now it's coming to us!"

Joey finally tears his gaze from the forest, locking eyes with me. That boyish half-smile he always wears tugs at his lips.

"Haven't you ever fought a wolf?" he asks.

"No."

"Well…neither have I. But, it can't be _that_ hard," he grins. Joey pulls the small pocketknife from his jacket. "Have the bow ready?"

"Yeah," I pull an arrow from the bag, hastily placing it against the tight strings of the bow. "You think it's coming?"

The snarl form my left answers for Joey. I have to bite back a scream. Not from fear, but from shock.

The creature is no wolf.

It has a body similar to a human's. Though grey, shriveled skin is stretched over its bones. The face of the creature is one I've seen before: it belongs to Leo Cole. He was a tribute in last year's games, from district 12. I don't know how the capitol managed to make the creature have Leo's face. But, I don't want to know. I've heard the rumor that the dead bodies of the tributes from the outlying districts are used for various horrible experiments in the capitol, because their families can't afford to pay for the return of their children's bodies. I shudder, imagining Leo's family watching what the gamemakers have done with their son's body.

A new fear grips me. The gamemakers are cruel. Using Leo's body shows that they have complete power over us all. Even when we die they still have control over our bodies, the only part of us that remains in the world.

Leo is still wearing last year's arena outfit. Though, even his clothes look like they belong to a zombie. His once young eyes are bloodshot. He opens his mouth. It's the liquid seeping from Leo's tongue, however, that attains my unassuming concern: It's a deep black substance, and from the way the stuff hangs from his chops in long, sinewy strings, I get the feeling it's not something as simple and harmless as saliva.

Leo launches himself in my direction with a deep growl. I immediately let the arrow fly. It hits the dead boy between the shoulder blades. Leo lets out a whine, cowering away from me. Black liquid oozes from his open wound.

"Nice shot, dude!" Joey grins, starting towards the dead boy, the tip of his small knife pointed towards Leo. Joey hesitates as Leo lets out another whimper. "We should kill it quick. So it doesn't have to suffer."

"Yeah. Okay. Go ahead."

For a moment, Joey appears uncertain. But he crouches down, diving the knife into Leo's throat. He whispers a quick, "Sorry." The dead boy chokes, spitting the black liquid onto the forest floor. After Leo collapses into a still heap of grey skin, Joey pulls the knife out of Leo and wipes the blade across the soil of the forest floor.

"Well…" he turns towards me, slipping the knife back in his pocket. Leo twitches. "I told you it would be easy. Although-"

"Watch out!" I shout, just as Leo lifts his head up. I can see in Leo's grey eyes there is determination. The kind of determination one would see in a dying man's eyes. The kind of vengeance that drives the dead.

And with that last spurt of strength, Leo sinks his teeth into Joey's leg. Black liquid pours from Leo's mouth, seeping through Joey's jeans.

I kick Leo off Joey, shooting an arrow into Leo's throat.

He dies this time. Or, the new, zombie-version of Leo dies. The real Leo Cole died last year; final eight.

"Are you okay?" I ask, kneeling down beside Joey.

Joey nods, keeping his pants over his wound. His blood seeps through the fabric.

"You should let me check it out for you," I say.

Joey shakes his head. "No. There's no need." He stands up, only wincing slightly as he puts weight on his leg. "I've had worse. I just need to walk it off." When he catches my skeptical expression, he adds, "When we get back to the others I can get a bandage."

"Fine. You can go back now, I'll get the water myself."

He looks at me as though I've just had horns sprout from my forehead.

"No _way_, dude. I'm _fine_. Really. It's just a scrape. And there's no way I'm missing out on the trip to the cornucopia. There could be some _awesome_ stuff left in there." He grins, looking just as calm and composed as ever. "Plus you need me."

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

"Yeah. If not for my fast reflexes you would be dead." He smirks as though he's telling a joke, even though he _is_ telling the truth. "Come on, we promised we'd be back before dark, right? And I don't know about you, but_ I'm_ a man of my promises."

**District 11: Falcon Dide (18) Pov-**

I can still smell the district 11-summer breeze that filled the air that day. The day my brother died.

I can still feel my fourteen-year-old skinny arms swinging by my side.

I still remember the t-shirt my little brother, Kai, was wearing that day. I remember because it was mine and I was giving him a hard time about how stupid he looked in it compared to me.

The day my brother died started out perfect. It was three days after school let out. I had the day off, because all us boys always had Saturday off from our jobs. It was my third year as an apple-picker. And although the job paid next to nothing, I got to steal as many apples as I could fit in my pockets and down my shirt.

My father insisted that I take Kai with me before I departed with my friend, Buzz, to enjoy the afternoon. I had complained. My brother was too little and would slow us down on our adventures. But, Kai almost matched our strides when we sprinted through the deep forests of district 11.

We stopped by the lake. Kai watched the cool water as Buzz and I competed to see who could skip stones the furthest.

I didn't realize my little brother sneak up behind me. Buzz had chuckled when Kai shoved me into the lake fully clothed.

I had quickly pulled Kai by the shoe into the water. And when I shoved my brother's head under water it was out of love. It was a joke. I was just playing with him. Buzz had plenty of times shoved my head under water and laughed as I struggled against his grip. He always let go before I got hurt. And I had no intention of hurting Kai. I had only expected him to push against me and give me a whack on the head when he resurfaced.

But my brother hardly struggled. He got very still after only a few seconds.

"Uh, dude…I think you should stop…" Buzz warned.

"He's just faking. He's trying to scare us." I informed my friend. Then I turned back to Kai to shout, "And it's _not _working."

Though when my brother again didn't reply, I removed my hand from his head. He didn't resurface.

"Kai?" I asked, the panic immediately setting in. I pulled my little brother from the water, his body remaining limp in my arms.

"Shit, dude, what did you _do_?" Buzz asked, his eyes crazed.

"I…I didn't…" tears stung my eyes. I kept expecting Kai to open his eyes and laugh at how I was crying and exclaim what a loser I was for falling for his trick. But my brother didn't open his eyes. Even after Buzz was slamming his hands against the twelve-year-old's chest, and breathing into the boy's mouth, Kai's stomach didn't move. He didn't breathe.

Buzz told everyone I killed Kai. He even told my father that I had held Kai's head under water until he drowned. And the worst part was that Buzz wasn't lying. He was being the good kid, the honest kid. I really did kill my little brother. Sure, it was an accident. But, accidents don't make the truth any less accurate.

* * *

I don't know why I'm still alive. I should be a lifeless corpse, sinking to the depths of the water. I deserve to be dead.

Though, I suppose even the water hates me so much it's refused to kill me.

The boy from 1 isn't as lucky as me; Colton's body lies on the bank, blood runs from a wound just above his forehead. I assume he managed to drag himself from the water before passing out, since it's hard to have the luck to be washed up on the sand.

He's not dead…I don't think. Though, from my position a few yards down the bank, I can't see any confirmations of life.

His dirty blonde hair is matted, dark red liquid trickles down his forehead. By far the thing that has my closest attention is that his sword is tucked under his stomach in such a thoughtful way, its almost as though he chose to collapse after finding his sword in the water and placing the weapon beneath him for extra safe keeping. A career would do that. They always think about their weapons before themselves.

I lie back against the sandy bank, watching the waterfall to my left. Some people would call the cascade of bright blue liquid beautiful. To me, it is just another unnecessary image. It is not more beautiful than the soles of my battered shoes. No more elegant, no more graceful.

The small pond to which the waterfall leads is now filled with all the leftovers of the bloodbath. The strong current I was swept along with was some elaborate way to clean the water. I take a quick look at the body of the boy from 6. He is closest to the bank. His body moves with the sway of the water, bobbing around as though still alive.

Soon a hovercraft will come and pull the deceased from the pond, sending the bodies back to their districts, back to their bereaved families.

A sound comes from my right. It's much more mechanical than any sound that should rip through the arena. I turn sharply, focusing on the small parachute floating towards me, a tiny box attached. It's a sponsor gift. The parachute continues past me, landing with a soft thud beside Colton.

We've hardly been in the arena for a few hours and the boy from 1 already has sponsors looking out for him. How _typical_. Although, the boy can't do anything with whatever he has been given. He stays in a heap on the bank, not even stirring as the box lets out its last beeps beside him.

I wait a moment before trudging over to the small box. It opens so easily that I end up dropping the contents into the sand because of using too much force on the container. Bandages and antiseptics fall in front of me.

I roll my eyes. _What a stupid sponsor gift. He can't bandage his own head wound. _

I look down at Colton. His body moves very slightly ever two seconds. He's breathing. He's alive. Probably not for much longer, though. Soon his head wound will get infected or he will bleed out. I'd give him another day or two. Unless…

_No…don't even think about it, Falcon. He's not your problem. He's a filthy rich kid from 1. He deserves to die_.

But if I leave him like this, I'm letting him die. Then I'll have a second death on my hands.

I groan, giving Colton's body a shove, so I can get a clear look at his head injury. He's incredibly light for a sixteen-year-old. It doesn't surprise me that much, though. He's thin for a boy from 1. I might have even thought he was a tribute from district 5 or 6, if not for his confidence, and the way he always looks like a rich movie star whose spent a good eight hundred dollars styling his hair.

The wound is deep. It looks like he must have smashed against a rock on his way down the waterfall.

I dump some antiseptic cream onto the wound, unsure of exactly how to apply the stuff.

With an intake of breath, Colton sits up straight, his hand grasping his sword. His blue eyes are a little unfocused, but he still manages to pull his eyebrows together and form the words, "Get away from me."

I raise a brow, dropping the bandage now in my hand.

"Fine. If you don't want my help you can just fix yourself."

He blinks a couple times, as though my words take a while to comprehend. Once he understands, his blue eyes fill with dread. He focuses on the patch of blood a few inches from him, as though realizing that in fact the vast quantity of blood in front of him actually came out of _him_.

"Yeah. That's _your_ blood," I mutter, annoyed by his futility

He reaches his hand to the back of his head, wincing. Then when he looks at his fingers, covered with blood, his face loses the small amount of color he had to spare.

He swallows thickly.

I barely have time to back up before he vomits, getting the white liquid all over his own hands and knees. He manages to turn his head away from himself as he gets sick again. Tears pool in his eyes, and I can't believe how incredibly _pathetic_ he looks. Was it only yesterday that he was entertaining the capitol with his incredibly charming interview?

All those occupants of district 1 are right now watching their golden boy puking all over himself. Somehow, this is satisfying.

Once the boy stops heaving, he looks up at me. "Please," he whispers. Even though he only says one word, I can tell he's asking for my help.

And I nod, kneeling down beside him, as far away from his sick as possible.

"Just don't throw up on me, okay?"

He offers a nearly imperceptible nod, and closes his eyes, breathing through his nose. I think he's close to passing out again. I delicately unwrap the larger bandage, wondering how to cover his head wound. He grasps onto the hem of his sleeve so hard that his knuckles are paper-white.

"Thank you," he mutters.

I nod.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

I grunt. Apologies are unnecessary.

"About the feast…" he continues through winces as I gently begin to wrap the bandage around his head, "I didn't actually think you killed your brother. I knew it was…just one of those stupid rumors. I should have…just left you alone."

"Well, don't all rumors come from a truth?"

He frowns, still not opening his eyes. I expect him to ask something along the lines of "What do you mean?" Though, he ends up mumbling a rather hushed, "Actually I don't feel so good again."

I stand up, backing away from him as he leans forward as though about to get sick. But, he doesn't get ill again. He just stays with his head somewhere between his shoulders for the next minute, looking pale and miserable.

"This was a mistake." He mutters eventually, shaking his head. "I never should have volunteered. I should have listened to my mom."

"It's not _that_ bad. What's the worst that can happen?"

"I could die." He spits out the words as though they're horrendous, as though they're not the salvation I know they are.

"But we're all going to die anyway. What difference does it make if you die tomorrow or seventy year from now?"

He crosses his arms, "It definitely makes a difference."

I don't waste my words disagreeing with him. Instead I shrug, and turn towards the closest forest. I don't want to stay on the beach with the district 1 boy. He's injured and sick and I'm no good at helping anyone. And anyway, he'll get better…probably.

As I walk across the sand, my shoes sinking into the soft sand, Colton chokes out a, "Wait!"

"What?" I ask, spinning my head around just enough to see the way Colton watches me. He wears a rather confused expression; much like one a young child would wear when he hears something unsettling.

And it's in this moment, this instant that Colton observes me from his seated position, that I realize if Kai were alive he would be Colton's age.

I'm sure my brother wouldn't be much like the boy from 1. But, there's this horrible connection between the two. Maybe that's why I felt the need to help Colton in the first place.

"Where are you going?" Colton asks. There isn't an accusing note in his voice. It's just curious. For a moment I'm afraid he's going to ask if he can come with me. But, he does no such thing. He just patiently awaits my answer.

"It doesn't matter," I reply. And then I continue across the sand.

None of this really matters. No one really cares where I go, whether I die in the water, on the beach, in the forest, or in the cliffs.

**District 7: Clara Kinking (16) Pov-**

Hunter and I sit in front of the small basket. The sponsor gift has a 7 engraved on the side. I open the basket delicately, pulling out the loaf of bread, dried fruit, bandages and iodine.

"Well, _someone_ likes you," Hunter says, gazing at the various supplies.

I smile. Just moments ago I was worried about how we hadn't gotten any supplies at the bloodbath.

"_Us,"_ I correct Hunter. "We're a team. What's yours is mine," I add.

"_Ew_, you make it sound like we're _married_," Hunter crinkles his nose in feigned disgust.

I chuckle. "There are worse things than getting married."

"That's just not true," Hunter replies. "Last time I checked marriage was the trump of all curses. I'd even rather become a _teacher_ than get _married_."

I stare at the boy. Teacher? Marriage? He really needs to sort out the difference between negatives and positives.

"If only we'd gotten a bag so we could have somewhere to put all this stuff," Hunter says.

"I can pocket everything," I declare, already stuffing the supplies into my coat pockets.

Hunter smiles. He opens his mouth like he's about to offer some witty remark. But then he brings his eyebrows together.

"What?" I ask.

He shakes his head, bringing his index finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet.

"Get _behind_ me," Hunter whispers, shoving me with such a great deal of force that the air gets slammed out of me as my back hits the ground.

Hunter stands in front of me, watching the girl run towards him, a spear in her hand.

"No!" I shout as the girl hurls the weapon toward Hunter's middle. But, Hunter doesn't let out any cry of agony. In fact, he doesn't even flinch. On closer inspection I realize Hunter somehow managed to grab the tip of the spear.

And the girl holding the spear surprises me. It's not the girl from 1, 2 or 3. It's the girl from 12, Kasey, Hunter's district partner. She bares her teeth.

"Let go," she fumes towards Hunter.

"Kasey," Hunter breathes out her name, appearing a little confused. "What are you doing?"

"Don't take it personally," she says, her grey eyes solemn. I can see the muscles in her neck tighten as she tries to push the spear into Hunter's chest. He constrains the weapon from moving, though I can tell from the way his green eyes squint that it isn't easy.

Hunter lets out a breath before he wrenches the weapon from her. She loses her balance as the weapon gets torn from her grasp. She trips backwards.

With a fluid flick of the wrist, Hunter thrusts the spear through Kasey's chest. She gasps, her fingers curl around the spear as blood pours from her body. She tries pulling the weapon from her chest, but she collapses onto her back.

A distressing sound comes from her throat. Not quite a sob, not quite a growl. But, something in-between. Her grey eyes fasten on Hunter.

"I'm sorry,"

"You _bastard_," she hisses. "You _sick_ bastard." She lets out a wet cough. Some blood trickles down her chin and runs across the fair skin of her neck. I swallow, turning to look at my partner.

He's staring at Kasey. His expression is completely blank. But, his green eyes read something deeply disturbed.

"I…I'm really sorry," Hunter repeats.

"Don't act like you're better than them. You're no better than them," Kasey chokes out, her voice raspy. "Just you wait…you'll be burning in hell with the rest of them."

Kasey's blue eyes remain frozen on Hunter's face as her cannon goes.

**District 1:**

**Male: Colton Orsel (16)**

**Female: Sparkle Uccello (17)- has killed 2**

**District 2:**

**Male: Jared Lynxx (17)- has killed 1**

**Female: Brynn Carson (16)**

**District 3:**

**Male: Skip Ryden (18)**

**Female: Arianne Pixel (16)- has killed 2**

**District 4:**

Male: Tommy Scott (17)

**Female: Janette McKinley (16)**

**District 5:**

**Male: Talen Morton (15)- has killed 1**

**Female: Sophie Merita (13)**

**District 6:**

Male: Anderson Piely (13)

Female: Hadley Paxton (15)

**District 7:**

**Male: Joey Morel (16)**

**Female: Clara Kinking (16)**

**District 8:**

Male: Todd Brown (12)

Female: Kat Callaghan (15)

**District 9:**

**Male: Mikey Jonah (15)**

**Female: Clarity May (17)**

**District 10:**

Male: Friesian Wade (14)

**Female: Halley Morris (15)**

**District 11:**

**Male: Falcon Dide (18)**

**Female: Riley Kramer (17)**

**District 12:**

**Male: Hunter Night (15)- has killed 1**

Female: Kasey Spalik (16)


	31. The End of Day One

**District 5: Sophie Merita (13) Pov-**

I peer down at the leaves that litter the forest ground. From my elevated perch in the tree, I can both see anyone approaching and keep myself hidden from the other tributes.

A bird darts through the air, missing the tip of my nose by a few inches. I grip onto the branch beneath me. The rough bark scrapes my palms.

Then I hear a voice. Or is it the soft call of a bird?

I hold my breath, trying to hear with more clarity. The sound is getting louder, which means whatever is emitting the noise is approaching.

Talen comes into view below me. He's walking with his head tipped back so he can admire the arena. And he's whistling, as though he's just going for a quick walk around his district.

I shrink into the tree as Talen approaches. The sound of his shoes crunching over the leaves stops. I carefully peer down. Talen is looking right at me, smiling like he always smiles. Like something particularly charming is happening inside his head.

He raises a hand.

"Hello!" He shouts up.

I don't answer.

"Dear Sophie. Did you catch Todd's death? It was _incredible_. It could easily be one of the best of the games."

Again, silence is the only response Talen receives.

"Feeling quiet, are you? I empathize with you extremely, Sophie. Sometimes when things are overwhelming I get quiet. Won't you come down so I can see you better?"

There's something in Talen's voice that leaves me perturbed. His civility is unnecessary in such a situation.

"Go away. I don't need any allies," I say.

"Oh. It seems there has been some misconception. I don't want to be your ally, dearest Sophie. I only intend to have some fun with you. This _is_ a game, after all."

I swallow. "Go away."

Talen doesn't speak. He merely lifts the spear he holds in his right hand, twirling it subconsciously. He isn't going to throw it at me, is he? He has to know he's not strong enough to throw a spear this far up in a tree. He drops the weapon on the ground, and picks up a small rock.

He hurls the stone at me. I dodge the rock, almost loosing my balance on the tree limb. He tosses another stone.

This time ducking proves to be significantly harder. I manage to avoid the rock making contact with my forehead. The consequence is falling out of the tree.

I let out a soft yelp as I hit the ground. My ankle cracks, the pain instantly flooding through my leg.

Talen walks over to me casually.

"Silly Sophie. You should have just came down when I told you to." He chuckles.

"Get away from me!" The growl in my voice even surprises me.

Talen stares at me, his pink lips pulled into a childlike smile. He lifts his spear up, the tip pointed towards my chest.

"No. Please. Please don't kill me. If you have any respect for district 5, please don't kill your own district partner so early on."

Talen just keeps smiling. "I won't kill you. As long as you promise not to leave."

"Okay. I promise not to leave," I lie.

"I don't believe you," he says. His wrist trembles, causing the spear to shake. His arms are almost too week to hold the weapon up.

"I-"

He brings the weapon down, the tip of the spear piercing straight through my left palm.

"There. That should prevent you from going anywhere. After all, you can't leave without your hand."

I bite my lip, holding back a whimper.

"What do you want from me?" I choke out.

"My mother says that things are most magical when there's someone there to enjoy them with you. I can't say I agree with her completely. But in a place as beautiful and enchanting and _this_," Talen takes in a long deep breath, tipping his head back to admire the scenery. "I suppose it would be insensitive not to appreciate the splendor with a companion."

I pull my eyebrows into an expression of confusion.

He kneels down in front of me, and places his hand over my left palm, the one that has the spear through it. He twirls his finger in the blood that seeps from my skin. Then he raises his bloodied fingers to my face.

"See, I need a companion to do this," he says. I flinch as he smears my blood on my cheeks, then my forehead. But after a while I relax. His touch is very gentle, despite the rather brutal circumstances.

After a few minutes he lets out a contented sigh and just stares at me.

"You look beautiful. Exquisite. Your inside is on your outside. And you're alive. Isn't that a most beautiful contradiction? I always like it most when they're still alive."

"They? Who are _they_?"

"My experiments. Once they die all I can really do is skin them. But then they're no longer entertaining. They can no longer truly surprise me or _intrigue_ me."

So I'm an experiment? Just something he can play around with. I knew Talen was different. But I never thought he was such a_ sick_ boy.

I open my mouth, ready to tell him just how sick he is. But no words spill from my lips. I'm far too scared. Am I sitting across from some type of serial killer? Are his experiments other people?

Talen runs a hand through his brown hair, flashing me a very pretty smile.

"I wish I looked like you, Sophie," he says. "You're so little…so delicate. You're such a _girl_."

I bite my lip. What's that supposed to mean? He _wants_ to look like a _girl_?

"Why?" I choke out.

He tips his head back and laughs. "_Why?_ That's such an imprudent question. People are always asking why. That's a foolish way to squander time."

"Uh…I guess so."

He lifts my right hand off the ground and brings it to the blood seeping from my left palm. "Isn't blood beautiful? The way it feels against your fingertips. Warm. Comforting. Real. It's strange how even though it's in everyone, there's something so forbidden about it. Something so mysterious."

**District 9: Mikey Jonah (15) Pov-**

"We only killed_ five _tributes. That's embarrassing," Jared mumbles.

"Well, it's better than two years ago," Brynn says, trying to bring some optimism to the conversation. "The careers only got two tributes in the 98th."

"Jared's right. We should have gotten more," Arianne sighs. She glares in Brynn's direction. "And _you_ should have killed someone instead of just waiting for the rest of us to do all the killing. You too, Mikey. You're both part of the career group. That means you're both killers."

I swallow when her glower lands on my face. I flash her a nervous smile. Am I really supposed to be a killer? _Me?_ I can't even _watch_ the hunger games at home without feeling sick. Arianne expects me to actually _kill_ someone?

For the past few hours, I've been trying to pull Brynn aside so I can tell her my suggestion: we should leave the others. I know Brynn isn't like the rest of the careers. She values compassion more than the selfish want for life.

But Brynn thinks she's safe when she's with the careers. She believes that Jared and Sparkle and Arianne will protect her. I want her to know I can protect her, too. Maybe I'm not all that strong or all that tall. Maybe I'm not great at using weapons. Maybe I don't appear brave. I know she thinks of me as an innocent little boy. But, I'm fifteen; the old kind of fifteen. The kind that sometimes possesses the prudence of forty.

"Uh…Brynn…can I talk to you for a sec-"

"You see that? Do you guys see the people coming out of the forest?!" Arianne shouts, pointing towards the mouth of the woods. Since we're situated near the top of the mountain, there's a perfect view of everything that isn't hidden by the trees of the forest. As soon as the two figures emerge completely, I can tell exactly who they are: Skip and Joey.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the giant and the show-off," Arianne lets out a cackle. She cups her hands over her mouth, allowing her voice to fly through the arena. "Back so soon boys?"

The two boys exchange a look once they notice the group of us. Joey tightens his grip on his bow. But he doesn't take an arrow out. Skip pulls out a canteen, approaching the water.

"You can't drink the water, anyway." Arianne taunts. "You'll need iodine. But, we've already taken all the iodine in the cornucopia."

Again the boys exchange a glance. It's too dark for me to tell if it's one of frustration or panic. It's probably a mix of both.

"So you better start getting on your knees and begging for some sponsors if you want to survive." Arianne continues. "Though, I don't know what kind of lunatic would want to sponsor losers like you."  
Jared and Sparkle laugh after Arianne's words. I share an uncomfortable look with Brynn. Isn't she being a little mean?

Skip kneels down in front of the water. I can just make out a small canteen in his hands. He's getting water anyway. It's a smart choice. I know the two boys together probably have a bunch of sponsors already lined up for them.

Arianne grabs a knife from her bag quickly. She raises the weapon up, taking aim in the dim light. The knife flings from her fingers without a sound. I cringe, waiting for the weapon to make contact with one of the boys below.

Joey ducks, the knife continuing on behind him.

"_Shit!_" Arianne whispers.

"Let _me_ have a go," Jared says, pulling another knife from the bag.

"_I_ can do it," Arianne hisses, grabbing the weapon from Jared's hand so quick that the blade nicks Jared's palm. He snaps his hand back.

"_Watch_ it," he snarls.

"Relax it's just a little scratch."

I watch as the two boys below start back towards the forest. I open my mouth to alert Arianne, but Jared speaks before I get the chance.

"Just a little scratch?" Jared raises a brow. He opens his palm, allowing a sizable drop of blood to fall from his wound. Then he raises his hand to Arianne's face. "That's just a little scratch?" Jared's voice remains completely calm as he speaks. He shoves his bloody hand into Arianne's forehead, pushing the girl backwards.

Arianne yelps as she loses her balance. Her arms wave around her body, groping for something to hang onto. Sparkle leaps forward so she can grab onto Arianne's arm before the girl tumbles off the side of the mountain. But, Sparkle arrives a second too late. Arianne's strangled screams slice through the air as she disappears over the side of the mountain. Brynn grabs onto my hand.

Jared takes a couple steps forward so he can watch her fall.

It's a few seconds after Arianne's shrieks stop that her cannon goes. Jared remains still. I can't see his expression. But the back of his neck is tense. He can probably tell we're all looking at him, waiting to see what he says.

Something forces me onto my feet and towards the edge of the mountain. I don't want to see Arianne's dead body below. But, I can't help looking.

The girls golden hair fans out around her face. It's horrible, how beautiful she looks lying on her back. Her eyes are wide open. I get the absurd feeling that she's looking at me. But, I suppose that's the reaction most have to the open eyes of the dead.

If not for the puddle of blood that's growing around her body, I might think she really is just relaxing. Just lying against the rocks below, looking up at the sky, enjoying a peaceful moment of leisure in the midst of all this bedlam.

Perhaps she seemed mean, perhaps she seemed cruel, but I know that she was just a sixteen-year-old girl. You can't blame a girl that young for trying her best to be brave. Tears pool in my eyes. I attempt to blink away the hot tears. I'm fifteen. I'm too old to cry over a death. But, a tear slips past my eyelid, sliding down my cheek.

Jared lets out a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he speaks so softly, I almost mistake his words for a gentle draft of wind. His eyes rest on the tear skating down my cheek.

"That's it." Sparkle says, standing up. "No more staying in the mountains. If we stay here any longer we're all going to turn on one another. We have to track the other tributes as a team. We're the careers. We're the hunters. Tomorrow we move."

**District 11: Riley Kramer (17) Pov-**

"Did you hear that?" Clarity asks, her voice possessing the breathless quality of panic.

I don't want to nod. I don't want to admit to hearing the daunting echo of a cannon. But, there's nothing to gain from lying.

"There are many other tributes still in the arena. The probability that the cannon belongs to Skip or Joey is very slim."

Clarity nods, not offering any response to my words. I can't see her face all that well anymore. The sky has turned a subtle blue, no longer offering a bright glow. If only we could make a fire. Though I know how dangerous the smoke it produces can be to a group of tributes attempting to stay hidden.

"What if they are dead?" Haley asks, her voice trembling.

"Okay, first of all, there was only one cannon. They _can't_ both be dead. And anyway, we have no reason to think they're dead. They're both perfectly competent guys."

A silence follows my words. A worried silence. The kind that seems alive. The kind of silence that has cold fingers.

I sit down beside Clarity, pulling my hair out of the ponytail and running my fingers through it, attempting to comb out the knots already forming.

"Are you guys afraid?" Haley asks. Her words are strangled, holding a disheartening resemblance to those of a small child. "Because I am. I'm really…terrified."

I can just make out Clarity grasping Haley's hand in the dim light.

"We're all terrified," Clarity says. "So on the bright side, you never have to feel alone."

"I just…I'm not at all ready to die. I don't want to never see my father again. I wish I could go home one more time. Just so I could really say goodbye to everyone I'll miss." Haley takes a deep breath, holding the air in her lungs for a good few seconds before letting it slide past her lips in a sigh. "What do you think happens when you die?"

She asks the question I've been trying to answer for my whole life. I haven't only just started inquiring about death's attributes in the past week. Death has accompanied me through most of my life. There's always that dark curtain that flutters just to my right or just to my left that sometimes brushes against my shoulder. Sometimes I feel like I know death because of how many times I've seen him, because of how many times I've been so close to him. But death still remains such an enigma.

"I always thought people went somewhere nice," Clarity says. "A place where there are no obligations, where there's just peace and quite. And you're surrounded by the people you love." She chuckles softly. "Sounds a bit cliché now that it's out of my mouth."

"Not cliché. It sounds nice. It sounds comforting," I say.

"It's a reach," Janette mutters. "Death is not a place. Death is a state. It's the moment that all biological functions in a body cease. When I die I'm going to decompose. I will become one with nature. Hopefully I'll be buried in a place where the compounds in my body can give life to a tree or a couple flowers."

"That's also nice. In a different way," Haley whispers. "What do you think Riley?"

I press my lips together. What do I think?

"I guess to me death isn't a place. Death isn't a state. He's a being. He's a good being, even though we've all grown to fear him. He's honest. There's a certain warmth, a certain gentleness inside of him. His hands are rough and old but safe." A silence follows my words. I twirl a strand of my hair. "That's all I've figured out so far."

"So he's…like an angel?" Haley asks.

"I suppose. You could think of it that way."

"An angel," she repeats.

And I get that familiar feeling on the back of my neck, the one where it's as though someone is watching me. Perhaps an angel. Perhaps just an entity as simple as the wind.

Music suddenly rings through the arena. The joyous orchestra is familiar; it's the capitol anthem. This means the faces of all the deceased are soon to be shown in the sky. As the music dies out, Lynette Diamond's voice blasts through the arena.

_Congratulations, tributes, on completing day one in the arena. I hope you're ready for the excitement that will follow tomorrow. _

I swallow. Excitement in the hunger games is never a good thing.

_Please take a moment to pay your respect to the deceased. _

The anthem continues. And I lean back so I can watch the sky.

The first picture in the sky is of Arianne Pixel. That's a shock. I was sure she would make it far. I let out a sigh of relief when I see Tommy Scott's picture. Skip's still alive. The little boy from 6, Anderson Piely, smiles down at me from the sky. His district partner, Hadley, looks close to crying in her photo. It's a real pity. She seemed so nice. Both the tributes from 8 are dead. Friesian scowls in his photo. The girl from 12, Kasey Spalik, is the last face in the sky. Her expression is so gloomy, almost as though she knows she's dead.

Janette gets to her feet as she hears voices. She tightens her grip around her knife.

"Who's there?" She asks.

"Relax. It's just us," Joey's voice cuts through the night air. Relief floods through my body as I see the two shadows approaching. Skip drops the canteen on the ground with a heavy sigh. Haley reaches for the bottle.

"You can't drink it. The careers took all the iodine. In fact, they took everything worth anything in the cornucopia," Skip says. "Smart move."

"What's that on your pants?" Clarity asks, motioning towards Joey's leg. I can just make out a dark substance sticking to the fabric. "Is that…blood?"

"Uh…I just scraped myself. It's no big deal."

"I'll help you fix it up," Clarity says. Joey attempts to disagree, but Clarity is much too obdurate. She grabs the backpack from beside me and pulls Joey to a seated position. While Clarity pulls a bandage from the first aid kit, Skip sits down beside me.

"You know, I fought a _zombie_ today,"he says, a hint of a smile to his words.

"Oh, let me guess, Leo Cole?"

"He visited you guys earlier, didn't he?"

"Yeah. Poor guy. Have to say, death really hasn't been treating him too well."

"How could you say that, Riley? I thought he was looking just _fabulous_ with his shriveled, grey skin and yellow eyes."

I chuckle. "And not to forget that he kept making that _very_ attractive face. The one where all that black stuff was dripping from his mouth."

The two of us laugh, even though the conversation really isn't all that funny. Once we quiet down, I look up at the sky. To my surprise stars have begun to form in the sky. Though the twinkling lights appear so real, so natural. I almost believe I could be outside, looking up at the stars in district 11.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course, Riley," Skip answers.

"What happens if we die?" The question sounds strange coming from my mouth. But, I really want to know what Skip has to say.

I smile softly as his big, warm arm snakes around my shoulder. "I'm not going to let you die in this arena. You don't have to worry. You're safe with me."

Despite the fact that those words are completely naïve, I still believe that I'm safe beside Skip.

"Hey, look! A sponsor gift!" Haley almost shouts. Janette nudges her in the shoulder as though to say _quiet down_.

Sure enough, a package lands beside Joey. An "11" is engraved on the side of the box. For a moment, the six of us merely stare at the object.

Joey brings his blue eyes to my own. "It's from your district. You should open it." He hands me the box carefully, as though the contents are extremely precious.

I run my fingers over the wood, trying to feel the lingering presence of the world outside this arena. The others watch hungrily as I open the package.

Six water bottles filled with the clean, clear liquid sit side by side.

I smile.

I don't know how it's possible. But tonight, at least, I'm content.

**Day 1 is over. 8 dead. Only two thirds of the tributes remain. ****Bellow is a list of the tributes. The numbers of tributes they have killed are to the right of their names. The bolded tributes are still alive. **

**District 1:**

**Male: Colton Orsel (16)**

**Female: Sparkle Uccello (17)- has killed 2**

**District 2:**

**Male: Jared Lynxx (17)- has killed 1**

**Female: Brynn Carson (16)**

**District 3:**

**Male: Skip Ryden (18)**

Female: Arianne Pixel (16)- has killed 2

**District 4:**

Male: Tommy Scott (17)

**Female: Janette McKinley (16)**

**District 5:**

**Male: Talen Morton (15)- has killed 1**

**Female: Sophie Merita (13)**

**District 6:**

Male: Anderson Piely (13)

Female: Hadley Paxton (15)

**District 7:**

**Male: Joey Morel (16)**

**Female: Clara Kinking (16)**

**District 8:**

Male: Todd Brown (12)

Female: Kat Callaghan (15)

**District 9:**

**Male: Mikey Jonah (15)**

**Female: Clarity May (17)**

**District 10:**

Male: Friesian Wade (14)

**Female: Halley Morris (15)**

**District 11:**

**Male: Falcon Dide (18)**

**Female: Riley Kramer (17)**

**District 12:**

**Male: Hunter Night (15)- has killed 1**

Female: Kasey Spalik (16)


	32. Blast

**Just wanted to inform everyone reading to check out LilacFields' hunger games story! She's looking for some people to submit tributes...so you should check that out!**

**President Road Pov:**

The best thing about the Gamemaker's room is that it always smells like a mix of coffee and cinnamon rolls. This particular morning acts as no exception. As I enter the room, various gamemakers jump to their feet to shake my hand or offer me a bow. Victor, the head gamemaker, sits with his feet placed on top of his desk, as he watches the boy from 11 staggering through the woods on the screen in front of him.

"I think we should do the boy a favor," Victor announces to the room. "Let's cue some fire balls. Put the guy out of his misery already."

I clear my throat as I approach his desk.

"Good morning, sir," Victor quickly gets out of his chair, awarding my presence with a deep bow. I shake my head.

"Please, how many times do I have to tell you, save the formality for when we have an audience," I mutter.

"Yes. Of course, sir." Victor flashes me a stiff smile. "So…" his fingers fiddle with the hem of his sweater. "Why have you graced us with your presence this morning?"

"I want to see what you have planned for today." I smile, in an attempt to ensure Victor that I just want to have some fun. The hunger games exist primarily in order to provide amusement for the citizens of Panem.

Victor returns my grin. "Well, I was thinking about having the first blast this evening."

"This evening? You're really going to make our audience wait a whole day before something exciting happens?"

Victor clears his throat. "Well, I…"

"Cue the first blast right now," I finish for him. "And we can do another this evening."

He again clears his throat, unnervingly. "I can only do it once every twenty-four hours. The scientists made it very clear that if the tributes are hit with that much electromagnetic radiation in too short amount of time they're all going to die very quickly."

I grab the still untouched cinnamon roll from Victor's desk, biting into the sugary dough.

"Cue the first blast now," I say, wiping some crumbs from my shirt. "We'll discuss this evening's events later."

**District 4: Janette McKinley (16) Pov:**

Joey fiddles with the bow in his hands, running his finger along the bowstring. I keep my knife in my back pocket, ready for an attack.

Joey and I are the two keeping watch while the other four sleep. Joey had offered to stay awake alone while the rest of us slept, but I knew better than to trust him.

We've spent the last few hours sitting in silence. I did watch the sky until it began to brighten. Now the sky is almost the comforting blue of morning. It's no longer entertaining.

A soft whine travels through the air. My fingers inch towards the knife in my pocket.

Clarity sits up, looking for the source of the sound.

"Do you hear that?" she asks.

"Yeah. Be quiet for a second. Let me hear," I whisper.

The others begin to wake up, puzzled about the sound, while I continue to listen. The noise is gradually getting louder. It doesn't sound like it belongs to another tribute or any type of arena mutt. Perhaps there's a malfunction with the speakers in the arena?

"What is it? I don't hear anything," Joey says.

"The really high pitched ringing sound," Clarity whispers to him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joey mutters.

"Just _shut up_. I'm trying to _listen_," I hiss.

Joey crosses his arms over his chest, but he does keep his mouth shut.

Clarity brings her hands over her ears, her eyebrows pulled together in discomfort.

And then the blaring pitch begins to hurt my ears as well. It gets louder and louder until I_ feel_ it.

There's this pressure that wraps around me. Not a friendly heaviness, but an agonizing strain surrounds my body. I clasp my eyes closed. My head throbs. It's almost as though my body is being forced into itself. I desperately try to choke in breaths, but my lungs are in too much pain to recall how to function. I can just hear the blast of a cannon in the distance.

_This is it. I'm going to die. I'm going to die_.

And just as suddenly as it started, the pressure stops. The high-pitched ring is completely gone. But my body still aches with the aftermath.

I manage to pop my eyes open, letting out a breath. Everyone is in some pathetic position on the ground; Skip has his head buried underneath his arms, Halley is curled up in a ball, Clarity is flat on her stomach. Everyone except Joey, that is. The boy stands with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"What are you guys _doing_?" he asks.

I lock eyes with him, pulling my eyebrows into a quizzical expression. "Didn't you feel that?"

"Feel what?" he asks, barely raising a brow.

"It was…horrible…" Clarity chokes out. She sits up and immediately lies back down with a moan, "My head. It feels like it's going to explode."

"You didn't feel _anything_?" I ask Joey. He just shakes his head, and his lips twitch, as though he's trying to hold back a smile.

"I thought you all were playing a joke on me." He grins. I continue staring at him. Only Joey Morel could possibly think we would take time in the middle of the arena to play a joke on him. But how could he possibly not have felt something _that_ excruciating? There's something he's not telling me. I'm positive.

I get to my feet, trying to ignore my aching body as I walk towards him.

"Why didn't you feel it?"

"How should I know?" He just smirks.

"Why are you smiling?" I ask, coolly.

"I'm not-"

I shove him as hard as I can.

"Hey, calm down." He takes a few steps back to regain his balance. "It's not my fault."

"Janette. You should stop," Clarity cuts in. "He said he didn't do anything."

"And the rest of you_ believe _him?" I turn to Haley, she averts my gaze. "Haley," I say. "I think it's time that we leave the group. Let's go." My partner again won't look at me. "I said lets _go_."

Haley shakes her head. "You can go. But I'm…I'm going to stay."

I take a deep breath. "Oh right. So you're deciding to abandon me because you have some stupid crush on _this_ arrogant jerk who is obviously lying to all of you guys." I glare at Joey.

Haley's face flushes a deep red and she immediately stares down at her shoes.

"What aren't you telling us?" I ask Joey again. "Tell me right now or you'll be sorry."

"Nothing. I didn't do anything." He's stopped smirking, and instead looks slightly peeved. "Just calm down."

"_Don't _tell me to calm down!" I hiss, pulling the knife from my back pocket and lunging towards the boy. Joey dodges the swipe I take at his chest. He makes a grab for the weapon, but with a little footwork I've got the knife heading towards his neck.

"_Stop _it!" Haley shrieks. Someone shoves me off my feet just before the tip of my knife can make contact with Joey.

"Get _off_ me!" I hiss. Skip pins my arms down beside me, his usual friendly expression pulled into a glower. I can't wrangle free. There's no way I can fight a six and a half foot guy, especially when my body already feels like it has been beat up. I do the only thing I can think of: spit a wad of saliva at his face. When he lifts his hands to protect his face from the liquid, I jump to my feet and sprint as fast as I can from the rest of the group.

My legs ache after only a few seconds of running. But, I push myself forward. I only have to get a little further. Anyway, I doubt any of them will come after me. None of them are true hunters.

I stop, noticing a boy lying on the path before me. It's the boy from district 11. I nudge his shoulder with my foot. No response. I place my fingers against his neck, checking for a pulse. Nothing. The cannon I heard earlier must have been signaling his death.

After recognizing that he doesn't have anything useful on him, I continue walking through the forest. My head still aches from the recent blast, and I wish I had remembered to bring my water bottle.

A cough comes from behind me. I spin around, drawing the knife from my back pocket. The boy from 1 points his sword in my direction, glaring at me.

"Put the knife down," he says, his voice raspy.

I shake my head. "What makes you think I would do such a thing?"

He opens his mouth to answer, and instead starts into a coughing fit. He leans against his sword, sucking in short breaths.

I smile, realizing he's Arianne's partner. I saw her face in the sky last night.

"You're partner's dead,' I say. "That means you're dying."

"I'm _not_ dying. I'm living. I'm going to kill everyone before I die." He lifts his sword, his whole arm shaking under the weight of the weapon. "Starting with you."

I easily avoid the jab he takes at my middle. He staggers towards me a second time but trips over his own feet, landing sprawled out on the forest floor. He starts coughing painfully, blood dripping from his mouth. His grip loosens from his weapon just for a moment. That's when I kick him onto his back and place my foot against his chest, grabbing his sword from his dazed fingers.

I lift up the weapon, getting ready to plunge it into the boy's chest.

"Wait," he begs. "Please. Can you just give me a minute?" he asks. I stare into his pleading blue eyes. "I just want to get ready."

"Yeah. Whatever."

He closes his eyes, swallowing. His lips move, though I can't hear any of the words he speaks. He's probably giving himself a little pep talk. It's so pathetic I actually feel bad for him. Once he stops talking, he pops an eye open.

"You ready now?" I ask.

He looks at the sword in my hand. "Yeah." He lets out a deep breath. A tear runs down his cheek as he closes his eyes again. "Can you do it quickly? So it doesn't have to hurt so much."

"Yeah. Okay."

I lift the sword up, taking a moment to decide how to kill him quickest. Decapitation should involve the least amount of pain.

"Rest in peace," I mutter, forcing the sword through his neck with one swipe. Dark red blood squirts from the boy's neck. I kneel down so I can wipe the blood off the sword using they boy's shirt. A gentle rustle disturbs the silence. I freeze.

A large shadow covers the boy's body. I look up slowly, making sure to keep my eyes narrowed at the boy in front of me.

"Oh look, Spark. It's the girl from 9," he addresses the girl beside him.

"Looks like she's without her crew," Sparkle replies. "You want to take her, Jared?"

"She looks easy enough. Why don't we let Mikey have a chance?" Jared brings his gaze to the blonde boy behind him. "You deserve your moment of glory, don't you, Mikey?"

The blonde boy takes the spear from Jared, swallowing. He walks towards me, his pace slow and apprehensive.

"Wait!" I hold my arms up. "Don't kill me. I can help you guys."

Jared and Sparkle share a look, and Sparkle tips her head back, laughing.

"Sorry, we're already full," Jared says, his arms crossed. "Go ahead, Mikey. Let's not take all day. There are other tributes we need to tend to."

"No. I don't want to join _you_," I say, not even attempting to maintain a respectful tone. "I want to make a deal with you."

Jared raises a brow. "A deal?"

**Sorry for the long wait. Hopefully you forgive me. Two more down! I did want to clear up some confusion some are having about the way partners a linked. When one partner dies, their partner dies within a day (give or take a few hours). The death is slow and painful. **

**********Bellow is a list of the tributes. The numbers of tributes they have killed are to the right of their names. The bolded tributes are still alive. **

**District 1:**

Male: Colton Orsel (16)

**Female: Sparkle Uccello (17)- has killed 2**

**District 2:**

**Male: Jared Lynxx (17)- has killed 1**

**Female: Brynn Carson (16)**

**District 3:**

**Male: Skip Ryden (18)**

Female: Arianne Pixel (16)- has killed 2

**District 4:**

Male: Tommy Scott (17)

**Female: Janette McKinley (16)- has killed 1  
**

**District 5:**

**Male: Talen Morton (15)- has killed 1**

**Female: Sophie Merita (13)**

**District 6:**

Male: Anderson Piely (13)

Female: Hadley Paxton (15)

**District 7:**

**Male: Joey Morel (16)**

**Female: Clara Kinking (16)**

**District 8:**

Male: Todd Brown (12)

Female: Kat Callaghan (15)

**District 9:**

**Male: Mikey Jonah (15)**

**Female: Clarity May (17)**

**District 10:**

Male: Friesian Wade (14)

**Female: Halley Morris (15)**

**District 11:**

Male: Falcon Dide (18)

**Female: Riley Kramer (17)**

**District 12:**

**Male: Hunter Night (15)- has killed 1**

Female: Kasey Spalik (16)


End file.
